Albany

We drove after the show

on dark and windy roads

the fog was so thick

we couldn't see through it

we had to take it slow

little did I know

that while I did my best to keep us all alive

you were dying out there on the west coast

and the blue and red lights looked so bright in the fog

with no seatbelts on and an expired license plate

that vermont state police man must have known what was to come

because he took it easy and he let us drive away

the road went on forever that night and the hour grew so late

the cell phone towers that we drove past

had a grim look on their face

They knew what they had to do

but they didn't want to break the news

it's an awful job that no one wants to do

kept awake my crazy dogs

too much baking powder used

I had seven missed calls

so I knew that it was bad news

I went to the van

the taste of metal in my mouth

I played the message back again

hoping that I heard it wrong somehow

the people on the street stared at me

as I stared off into space

like a statue in the back seat, like a coffin in the grave

I sat frozen in purple rain

I waited for a while for the phone call to come

and tell me this was another on of your pranks

I waited for weeks and weeks

for a tear to roll down my face

They knew what they had to do

but they didn't want to break the news

it's an awful job that no one wants to do

this is where you went

when you left us to try and kill the president

we tracked you down

and drug you into the van somehow

I threw you against a fence

I felt so bad for doing it

the next morning I just left

I drove home alone feeling sick

somewhere in pennsylvania I saw a dozen amish women on a bridge

they waved at me as I drove underneath

I was worried about what it meant

this was years ago I know

but I was back again

and the goddamn telephone was telling me

that I don't have a best friend

I don't what to go home

because it's not where I live

I played that message one more time again