Oh, I was just calling you to tell you I'm probably going to have to get up at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow. All right, have Patsy back down on your mom. Let's see. Damn it, John. Hmm? I lost that fricking steel line. Oh, ***. Okay. It's all right. Go *** find it! Ah, ***, I'm looking, man. ***. Because I told you my head don't look right. Yeah, you don't have to tell me that. She's in the house with the baby crying on the bed. She's got this thing where she puts up the wall so high. It doesn't matter how much you love. It doesn't matter how hard you try. We got a place with a fence and a little grass. I put this film on the windows and it looks like chapel glass. But when she turns, it's like the shadow of the cross don't cast. No blessing over her lonely life. It's like waiting for a train to pass. I don't know when it'll pass, but I remember when she used to set the room on fire with her eyes. Swear to God. It's like a flood of grief and sorrow from a haunted life when she cried like a dream. It's a lie. I dropped the line to a flickering high school flame. We laughed about all the ways that our lives had changed. She's up the road about 35 miles north. Got two little boys in school. Just had a real bad divorce. And in a moment of weakness, I told her if she ever needed a helping hand, I would lend. Swear to God. It's like the part of me that's screaming not to jump. It's lost in the sound of the train. It's a lie. Try hard. That's OK. Swear to God. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie.