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