#121 LAYIN’ LOW IN LUBBOCK
#121 LAYIN' LOW IN LUBBOCK
(Americana Roots-Rock)
(DEMO)
(Full Arrangement)
Half running from, half running to,
Hub City's where I finally stopped.
Late September sun rising angry,
Shaking hands, sore back, eight AM parking lot.
Fluorescent flicker -- gas station food mart,
Roamed the aisles, need a protein shake.
Close my eyes, you're yelling in our hallway,
I stay calm, just said "You're making a mistake."
He rings up my shake, twelve-pack and fritos,
Side eye from this counter guy in sweatpants.
My tight boot cut jeans, beard and black hat,
Must figure I'm either Butch or Sundance.
So I've been laying low in Lubbock,
And I have been all this fall.
Boozin til' I'm near flat broke and busted,
Nights spent waiting for your call.
Long-stay motel, looked for some work,
No rush -- flush from six months on the rig.
Found a nice quiet bar, nearby strip mall,
Tip a little -- treat you like a bigwig.
Six weeks of waiting, gave you a call.
Said "Ready to head your way on the road."
Listened to you breathe for half a minute,
Then you hung up after saying "Please don't."
And I'm still laying low in Lubbock,
Crushed down by endless miles of sky.
New year spent boozin, broke and busted,
Nights spent hopin' you might tell me why.
Tried you once again -- late the other night,
Rehearsed the perfect message -- new man, new insight.
Lots of stuff about change and newfound purpose,
Phone said -- "This number no longer in service."
Happy Valentine’s from here in Lubbock,
Standing steady, gazing at that sky.
Pretty sure you're never calling,
Pretty sure I'm pretending when I wonder why.
Then one rainy March morning I just saw it,
After days of sadness, nights of doubt.
Every road that runs into Lubbock?
Same damn road runs right straight out.
When I leave here, Amarillo's where I'll go,
And hope the best for you, though I'll never know.