A few lonely souls
Are hunting my ghosts
In a forlorn farmhouse,
Beside your graveyard.
Hard to drive while I\'m
Drinking a cup of my tears,
Shovel is in the back,
Knives are in my back.
My trunk is full of you -
I\'m drunk, but I\'m trying
My best - against the odds -
Keeping the car on the road.
You thought it\'ll break me -
You\'re going back to your folks -
We argued, you said goodbye.
But you can\'t leave me now, can you?