Hey

A Hundreds of stories

Before I showed up

They'd tell them to me

And pull photos up

They're all connected
Like a pair of handcuffs

No one seemed affected

That everyone is f**ked

But there was a softness

Some kind of understanding

Those 2am decisions

Always shaky landings

And 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 hair cut
She said  "I don't need a sponsor

Or the best lover

Just a man that sees me

As some fixer-upper
The last few years
That I've been running for cover

Trying to sleep
So I can visit 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 god damn

Alarm clock

And he hits her

Like a third shot

Conversations she just stares off

There's no longer a voice calling

When she goes out

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 call me up from a pay phone

You call me up from a pay phone

You call me up from a pay phone

You call me up from a pay phone
And I said  "Who the f**k uses a pay phone "