Hundreds of stories before I showed up They'd tell them to me and pull photos up They're all connected like a pair of handcuffs No one seemed effected that everyone had fucked But there was a softness, some kind of understanding Those 2am decisions are always shaking landings No one ever knew what could be demanded Maybe its the cards, the cards she was handed
You called me up from a pay phone I said hang tight, I can drive you home I pulled on up and with a southern accent I offered you my dad's leather jacket
I met her at a party, she'd come straight from work Complained that the regular were all a bunch of jerks She always looked tired but she dazzled as a drunk She even pulled of that stupid haircut She said "I don't need a sponsor or the best lover some man that sees me as some fixer-upper". The last few years I've been running for cover trying to sleep so I can visit my mother"
You called me up from a pay phone I said hang tight, I can drive you home I pulled on up and with a southern accent I offered you my dad's leather jacket When times were tough in the worst years We never knew how to interfere Now you're back and just unpacking Those bruised up takers you keep attracting
In September when it goes off, like some goddamn alarm clock. And it hits her like a third shot, conversations she just stares off There's no longer a voice calling, when she goes out, saying "I'll be up waiting for you"