We had a plan, move out of this town, baby
West to the sand, it's all we talked about lately
I'd pack the car, bring your guitar and Jane for smokin'
First thing at dawn, you'd cue the songs, and we'd get goin'
But you weren't home, waited on the porch for ya
Sat there alone, all throughout the morn 'til I
Got a hunch down in the gut and snuck around the back
Empty cans, and I'll be damned, your shit was never packed
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