Woorden: Kevin Devine. Alabama Acres.

So there's hundreds of auburn alabama acres
with rows of red roofs over warm farmers daughters
who've got no intention of inviting me in
space shines all above me so i settle myself under it.

when i wake up i'm back in my crowded city apartment
some random men doing work off in the kitchen
stacking mattresses up now to the ceiling and down to the floor.

my fathers sick in the hallway i hear him whistlin under the door.
i rush to lift him but you all know i am weak and you know that he is heavy.
there's no blood in his cheeks but he's smiling straight at me.

i ask the thickest of the workers "would you please come and help me out?"
he comes ambling over and says "sir, i love how your whistling sounds"

so now i drag him through the kitchen to the living room and down on the carpet
he says, "son i'm embarassed, but the sides of my head hurt.
i just know that i'm tired and i could surely use some rest."
i tear a mattress down for him and i say, "here dad sleep some on this."
i wake for real and it's over.
i'm alone in acres and my dad is still dead.

but if you underneath one of those rooftops, look out your window and invite me on in.
'cause it's cold and i'm lonely and i could sure use a friend
yeah it's cold and i'm lonely and i could sure use a friend.
it's cold and i'm lonely and i could sure use a friend yeah