[from a pay phone in la]

just give me a beer and give me a bed
chase the demons out of my head
play me a song and sing me to sleep
and meet me in the middle of my dreams

[don't you know that's okay]

until someone loves you, i'll keep you safe

[may you one day carry me home]

oh the sweetest winds, they blow across the south


ryan adams is sort of (completely) the world's biggest douche, but sometimes he writes lines that dig right up under my rib cage, in that soft spot next to my heart.

[this town can hit itself]

i got a glass of wine. i got a cigarette.
i should be feeling fine, i ain't feeling nothing yet.


breaking up with him was the best thing i ever did.

[are you lightning? 'cause i'm waiting.]

and so i act like i'm 21,
wide eyed and drifting unto sun,
pay back is here my legs are numb.


dancing until you're dripping with sweat and every part of your body hurts, knowing the season stat lines for every starter on a college baseball team, boys who say JU-ly with that sweet north alabama accent, books about the call of the south as a home.

[and i beg you to -- ]

too young to stand here, and too old to dance.



i have good friends. you guys, you know? you're awesome.

[tired of living in buttholeville]

i wake up tired and i wake up pissed
wonder how i ended up like this
i wonder why things happen like they do
but i don't wonder long --


i am tired and sad and frustrated and cranky and mean today.

[lucky for him]

the devil is also
a southerner.

[it's easier to let it all die a fairytale]

The hippies rode a wave putting smiles on faces
that the devil wouldn’t even put a shoe.
Caught between a generation dying from its habits,
and another thinking rock and roll was new.
Till the pawn shops were packed like a backstage party,
hanging full of pointy ugly cheap guitars
And the young'uns all turned to karaoke,
hanging all their wishes upon disregarded stars

-- Mike Cooley, "Self-Destructive Zones"