One waitress Outside of, Phone booth, South Carolina Sits, keeps killing time Rolls her eyes Roll of dimes Speak of this sick surrounding sin Tears me from limb to limb, within I don抰 know how to let it go This far away from home
One word was mistaken Context that it was taken from Write it down Must be sound Must be true I hope you can hear me My only sanctuary asks Why am I here? Why aren抰 I home? As the line builds for the phone
I want it all Work to a fault That breaks us in two And always at play The end of the day I抦 alone and so are you
Old stories Gas stations Repeating conversations Still, I can抰 speak long The show has to go on At best I, might question The focus of my attention Though, you know that I could bring it down
I want it all Work to a fault That breaks us in two And always at play The end of the day I抦 alone and so are you
One waitress, invading But I抦 content to make her wait It抯 all I have So far from home