Goodbye, Carolina Blues - Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties

Goodbye Carolina

I felt cold and I felt weak

Took a midnight bus from Asheville

Passed like a ghost through Tennessee

Brushed the northern edge of Blacksburg

Like the hair off of your cheeks

I wish I could fall asleep, half-dead in the window seat;

Awake for weeks

Good morning Manhattan

Stopped at Port Authority

I’ll take a train under the river

Ride the A out to the G

And I’ll walk along your narrow streets

With a dollar cup of coffee

Letting it stain my teeth

Two sugars, a drop of cream

Bittersweet

God damn, I missed you Brooklyn

Caught my breath here on your streets

I left my winter coat in Charlotte

And I’m cursing at the breeze

I’m hiding out from early March

Read the sign hung in our lobby

Elevator broke last week

I walk the stairs to 403

I don’t blame you for changing the locks

I think I’d probably do the same if it were me

Now I’m gathering up the courage to knock

Not sure what I’m looking for

I don’t know what I want

Do I want anything?

I don’t want anything

Well some college student answers

And my heart crash-lands on the floor

He says he sublet this place last month

He never heard of me before

Well he sees me there collapsing

And he opens up the door

It’s all new furniture;

I barely recognize it anymore

He says, «I'm sorry, man.

I wish that I knew more

I’m not sure exactly what you’re looking for

But no Dianne, no, she don’t live here anymore»

Anymore, anymore, anymore

Dianne don’t live here anymore