Way up here in Watertown waiting for the show
And someone dumped the trash where the trash ain't supposed to go
Now the boss is on the phone that's just what kind of day it is
It's gonna take all morning to deal with all this mess
There's a storm rolling in you can feel it in the air
St. Christopher come sweeping down and get me outta here
The satellite is out in the single-wide again
Keeping all the news from outside from creeping in
And I'm looking out my window for something I could do
But the picnic table's rusted and the razor wire is new
The puddles in the parking lot are dirty and they're deep
If I could dream myself back home I'd try to get some sleep
There's a palm tree made of plastic leaning on the kiddie pool
It probably looked fantastic way back when it was new
Folks 'round here keep keeping on in spite of all the noise
Makes me wish I's back in Asheville where I'm just one of the boys
Instead I'm up in Watertown waiting for a show,
And someone dumped the trash where to trash ain't supposed to go