Divorce and the American South

Hey, Dianne Could you pick up the phone? I know that you're listening Baby, I know that you're home and I know where I went wrong Don't you leave me alone Could you pick up the phone? I'm lost at a truck stop somewhere in the South I don't know where I'm going, but I'm figuring out I locked myself in this phone booth; read your number aloud Now, I'm waiting it out If I lay here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat me whole If I stay here long enough, maybe the night could take me home I won't let go, even if you say so No, I won't let go Hey, Dianne I've been trying to quit I went from pack and a half a day to this e-cigarette bullshit. Oh, I know how you hate it Hey, Dianne I know I fucked up It's just when we lost the baby, I kind of shut off I know I never listened. I wasn't there for you enough I'm a fuck up If I lay here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat me whole If I stay here long enough, maybe the night could take me home I won't let go, even if you say so No, I won't let go I had a dream I flew back North and the plane went down before we hit New York You didn't come to the funeral You didn't come to the funeral I hope you'd come to the funeral I hope you'd come to the funeral Hey, Dianne --- Divorce and the American South - Aaron West & the Roaring Twenties