I moved into this room, if you could call it that, a week ago.
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I never do what I'm supposed to do.
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I hardly even know my name anymore.
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When no one calls it out, it kinda vanishes away.
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I can't get to sleep at night. The parking lot's so loud and bright.
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The A.C. hasn't worked in twenty years.
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Probably never made a single person cold,
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but I can't say the same for me. I've done it many times.
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Somebody take me home through those Alabama pines.
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You can't drive through Talladega on a weekend in October.
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Head up north to Jacksonville. Cut around and over.
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Watch your speed in Boiling Springs.
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They ain't got a thing to do. They'll get you every time.
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Somebody take me home through those Alabama pines.
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Somebody take me home through those Alabama pines.
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If we pass through on a Sunday, better make a stop at Wayne's.
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It's the only open liquor store north, and I can't stand the pain
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of being by myself without a little help
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on a Sunday afternoon.
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I needed that damn woman like a dream needs gasoline.
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I tried to be some ancient kind of man,
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one that's never seen the beauty in the world,
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but I tried to chase it down... tried to make the whole thing mine.
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Somebody take me home through those Alabama pines.
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Somebody take me home through those Alabama pines.
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I've been stuck here in this town, if you could call it that, a year or two.
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I never do what I'm supposed to do.
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I don't even need a name anymore.
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When no one calls it out, it kinda vanishes away.
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No one gives a damn about the things I give a damn about.
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The liberties that we can't do without seem to disappear
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like ghosts in the air.
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When we don't even care, it truly vanishes away.
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Alabama Pines
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| Jason Isbell |
