Well I moved into this room
If you could call it that, a week ago
I never do what I'm supposed to do
Hardly even know my name anymore
When no one calls it out, kinda vanishes away

And I can't get to sleep at night
The parking lot's so loud and bright
The A/C Hasn't worked in twenty years
Probably never made a single person cold
But I can't say the same for me
I've done it many times

Somebody take me home, through those Alabama pines

You can't drive through Talladega on a weekend in October
Just head up north to Jacksonville
Cut around and over
Watch your speed in Boiling Springs
They ain't got a thing to do
They'll get you every time

Somebody take me home, through those Alabama pines
Somebody take me home, through those Alabama pines

Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh

If we pass through on a Sunday
Better make a stop at Wayne's
It's the only open liquor store north
And I can't stand the pain
Of being by myself, without a little help
On a Sunday afternoon

Well I needed that damn woman like a dream needs gasoline
And I tried to be some ancient kind of man
One that's never seen the beauty in the world
But I tried to chase it down
Tried to make the whole thing mine

Somebody take me home, through those Alabama pines
Somebody take me home, through those Alabama pines

Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh

I've been stuck here in this town
If you could call it that, a year or two
I never do what I'm supposed to do
I don't even need a name anymore
When no one calls it out, it kinda vanishes away

No one gives a damn about the things I give a damn about
The liberties that we can't do without seem to disappear
Like ghosts in the air
When we don't even care, it truly vanishes away

Copyright: Downtown Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Jason Isbell