Your eyes are long Vermont roads. With a tacky song on the radio. And your eyes are toothless young men. In Tennessee in the rain again. . And fireflies never go to sleep.
You're in your own little world, an expensive birdcage. Like a plastic baby in a Faberge egg. I saw you today at the Cafe Blase. And thought of the nights when we had fire fights.
I'm never going back to Jackson. I couldn't bear to show my face. I nearly killed you with my drinking. Wouldn't be caught dead in that place. . Lonely highway, only friend.