| [00:22.866] |
You were hiding in the backseat of my Lincoln |
| [00:30.250] |
Underneath a blanket with your head against the door |
| [00:36.376] |
And I was already halfway through Ohio |
| [00:42.687] |
When I heard your soft voice singing to a song on the radio |
| [01:12.489] |
Past our sleeping father a cold cigar lying at his feet |
| [01:19.304] |
He was surrounded by his books down in the parlor |
| [01:26.612] |
Filled with all the word |
| [01:28.551] |
S that he had wanted us to read and know |
| [01:48.855] |
But this is not an old American story |
| [01:55.295] |
About the rugged men who came out from the east |
| [02:01.983] |
And I am not some outlaw from the Badlands |
| [02:08.607] |
Or a gambler running tables in New Orleans |
| [02:15.798] |
So I put you on a bus back to Boston |
| [02:21.926] |
With some money in your shoe for a meal |
| [02:28.924] |
And I turn my car in the other direction |
| [02:35.799] |
Just hoping that I hear a note from the backseat |
