Hundreds of stories before I'd showed up
They tell 'em to me and pull photos up
They're all connected, like a pair of handcuffs
No one seemed affected that everyone had fucked
But there was a softness, some kind of understanding
Those 2 AM decisions, always shaky landings
No one ever knew what could be demanded
Maybe it's the cards, the cards that she was handed
You called me up from a pay phone
I said hang tight, I can drive you home
I pulled on up, and with a southern accent
I offered you my dad's leather jacket
I met her at a party, she'd come straight from work
Complained that the regulars were all a bunch of jerks
She always looked tired, but she dazzled as a drunk
She even pulled off that stupid haircut
She said "I don't need a sponsor or the best lover
Some man that sees me as some fixer-upper"
The last few years, I've been running for cover
And trying to sleep so I can dream of my mother
You called me up from a pay phone
I said hang tight, I can drive you home
I pulled on up, and with a southern accent
I offered you my dad's leather jacket
When times were tough, in the worst years
We never knew how to interfere
And now you're back, and just unpacking
Those bruised up takers you keep attracting
In September, when it goes off
Like some goddamn alarm clock
And it hits her like a third shot
Conversations, she just stares off
There's no longer a voice calling
When she goes off, saying
"I'll be up waiting for you!"
You called me up from a pay phone
I said hang tight, I can drive you home
I pulled on up, and with a southern accent
I offered you my dad's leather jacket
When times were tough, in the worst years
We never knew how to interfere
And now you're back, and just unpacking
Those bruised up takers you keep attracting
You called me up from a pay phone
Ooh-oo-ooh
You called me up from a pay phone
Ooh-oo-ooh
You called me up from a pay phone
And I said "Who the fuck uses a pay phone?"
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