Drew Shortell - Story Of The Son Lyrics

Takeout on the table
Half-finished lottos, and magazines of blottos turning up the nose
Open my eyes and yawn, but I'd rather go back to sleep
I turn back over and count the sheep

I get a text
It's from a girl that I used to know
It said, "If you want to see me again, you better know just where to go"

I Jumped up, dressed down, house left, went right
To the station

I stepped onto the train
I gave the submarine man my ticket and he said, "go to the back of the car, there's plenty of space" and I said "Alright sir"

The whistle blew
The train began to tread the rails
There I was on my way (Watch It, Man!)

This is my stop
I get up, I get off the train
The city really looks the same to me

The crosswalk sign turns on, and I walk across the road
And there it is, here I am, the place that I'm supposed to stand

I wait for a few hours and look at my phone in hand
I ask her where she is, and then the conversation disappears

I could expect this from any other person, but a mother to her son?

Thus ends the story of the son
You wish it was just one, but it is never done