1. '64 CHERRY RED

Same fucking payphone
I’m calling north to Mom to ask
What year the Mustang is
And when she answers, I hear your voice, Dad

I’m coming home soon
Could I borrow cash to square some debts?
I know I sound desperate, but I swear to god, Ma
I’ll pay you back

[Chorus]
I bought myself a burner; programmed your number in
Took an ad in the paper:
"Are there grease stains on your skin?
Do the songs of young love hum like an engine in your head?
I got what you need
‘67, Cherry Red"

I’ve never been a man’s man
I ain’t much for cars and I’m sick of fate
I’m done with praying
But if you hear me, Dad, I’ll keep her safe

I keep having flashbacks
I see you at dusk, in the summer, in the driveway
Smiling at everything, covered in engine grease
A look in your eye I can’t explain

[Chorus]

This guy named Robert calls
And said he used to have that car at 23
Last year his wife passed on
He’s got memories in love in the backseat
He takes the wheel and grins
He gets the same look in his eyes you always did
He can’t afford what I want for it
But says it was nice to see a car like this again

But I know he’ll love her the way that you did
And I just need enough scratch
To buy a bus ticket
Mail some to The Thunderbird
And pay my mom back

[Chorus]


2. GOODBYE, CAROLINA BLUES

Goodbye Carolina,
I felt cold and I felt weak.
Took a midnight bus from Asheville,
Passed like a ghost through Tennessee.
Brushed the northern edge of Blacksburg
Like the hair off of your cheeks.
I wish I could fall asleep, half-dead in the window seat;
Awake for weeks.

Good morning Manhattan,
Stopped at Port Authority
I'll take a train under the river;
Ride the A out to the G.
And I'll walk along your narrow streets
With a dollar cup of coffee
Letting it stain my teeth, two sugars, a drop of cream;
Bittersweet.

God damn, I missed you Brooklyn
Caught my breath here on your streets
I left my winter coat in Charlotte
And I'm cursing at the breeze
I'm hiding out from early March
Read the sign hung in our lobby
Elevator broke last week; I walk the stairs to 403.

I don't blame you for changing the locks.
I think I'd probably do the same if it were me.
I'm gathering up the courage to knock,
Not sure what I'm looking for.
I don't know what I want.
I don't want anything
I guess I don't want anything.

Some college student answers
And my heart crash-lands on the floor.
He says he sublet this place last month,
He never heard of me before.
He sees me there collapsing
And he opens up the door
It's all new furniture; I barely recognize it anymore.

He says, "I'm sorry, man. I wish that I knew more.
I'm not sure exactly what you're looking for.
But no Dianne, no, she don't live here anymore.
Dianne don't live here anymore."


3. GREEN LIKE THE G TRAIN, GREEN LIKE SEA FOAM

He invited me in;
Said his name was Jesse and to take a look around
I found my coat at the bottom of the closet, dug it out
The only thing that she left
There in the middle of the room, was the couch
She’d always hated the pattern or the texture
I can't remember it now
I relived those nights there breaking down
I guess I’ll see myself out

[Chorus]
You kept me waiting like the G Train
I held the door open for hours. I had to walk away
I rode the A line out to Rockaway
I’m always drawn to the water

Walked the streets to the shore
Passed by the murals fading off of the walls
Still licking the fresh wounds from a hurricane in the fall
And I watch them rebuild
I hummed a Ramones' song out of key
Staring off at the skyline over shorebreak
And remembering that this same ocean almost killed me
South Carolina, seafoam green

[Chorus]

I felt the weight

On a calendar long enough, all my grief starts to decay
On a calendar long enough it grows more useless by the day
And I read that on a calendar long enough
New York will be returned to the sea
When the water gets high enough, it’ll take back everything
So the subway and the G Train
Our apartment, all our memories
Come to rest there under water
All the things that I thought meant the most to me
I try to picture it: just the top of the skyline at low tide,
Piercing the surface as the ships try to navigate their lanes
And there alone and triumphant on the crest of a wave
Is the couch you gave away