ryan adams
the end
I don't know the sound of my father's voice  I don't even know how he says my name  But it plays out like a song on a jukebox in a bar  In the back of my head  Till its worrying machine  And in the cotton fields by the house where I was born  The leaves burn like effigies of my kin  And the trains run like snakes  Through the Pentecostal pines  Filled up with cotton and dime store gin  Oh Jacksonville, how you burden my soul  How you hold all my dreams captive  Jacksonville, how you play with my mind  How my heart goes bad  Suffocating on the pines in Jacksonville  The end, the end, the end   All the cars are lined up on a Saturday night  With a sky full of nothing but moon  And I lose my reflection in a bottle of wine  Till the morning comes down  And I ain't nothing but blue (you)  At the diner in the morning for a plate of eggs  The waitress tries to give me change, I say  "Nah its cool. you just keep it"  I read up my news  I start thinking about her  And I wonder if anybody here besides me  Has got any decent secrets  Oh Jacksonville, how you burden my soul  How you hold all my dreams captive  Jackson-Hell, how you play with my mind  How my heart goes bad suffocating on the pines  In Jacksonville  The end, the end, the end