I woke up in Houston, in somebody's kitchen. The ceiling was sweating, and I was afloat on a dirty brown river of heroin shivers, waiting on someone to send me a boat. I went back to Charlotte, cuz I fell in love with a girl with a stutter, who didn't love me. She said, " I don't believe you. I don't believe you. I don't believe you when you're laying next to me." So, I went down to Tampa to find me an answer, but it wasn't coming and neither was she. So, I tried Swananoa, where nobody knows me. Got so goddamned lonesome that I had to leave. I looked death in the face. It was only my father. If I'd known all along, I wouldn't have bothered with being afraid, with being a coward, and trying to fool some mysterious power. Cuz, I don't believe it. I don't believe it when it's laying next to me. No, I won't believe it. I won't believe it. I won't believe it 'til it's laying next to me.