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• Artiste: Ryan Adams
• Titre: Birmingham
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I wish I was a painter Charcoal and [?] Or a presidential motorcade Where the cops just come and go Return me to the station A box and empty bag Fall asleep watching the twister In some broken down hotel in Birmingham 'Cause I wish I was a calendar Numbers and good names Variating slightly But only the pictures ever change Mark me 'return to sender' I'm like a letter without a stamp I wasn't written to be read And I am sleepless in this bed In some broken down hotel in Birmingham Held her hand in Old Savannah Marigold print on her dress Her hair was combed and parted Like a beautiful princess I didn't see you at the altar Way back then you were so drunk You were washed up on some hooker's bed Behind a shitty restaurants Bought her pretty clothes and diamonds The guy was born to be her man We were more than commentary For a [?] headline grab So when the wind blows in your window 'Cause the storm don't give a damn Pray the window don't break Across the wrist of your writing hand On a stationary [?] With the tears of the peoples backs you stab When you're hiding like a robber With no one's purse to grab Remember me standing there holding out my hand In a broken down hotel in Birmingham