In an attic apartment in iowa in a bed too big for one
you fell asleep with the stereo on when the day was done
on a hard wood floor in memphis i awoke to a hangover and rain
i layed there in my sleeping bag and heard the walls whisper your name
i missed you in mississippi with a map drawn on my chest
my hands kept driving south, but my heart beat midwest
Chourus*
this fall will be all phone calls and postcards and "i wish you were here's"
last night the streetlights painted on october ice and your face appeared
I got dead drunk and dreamed of you down in new orleans
you sting just like one fifty one and you burn just like jim bean
you've got virginia's good looks and carolina's charm
if you were florida, i'd be the sea and hold you afloat in my arms
in a basement flat in chicago in a bed too small for two
i'm holding this beat up six string when i should be holding you
Chourus*