[Verse 1]

Once a week I make the drive, two hours east

To check the Austin post office box

I make the detour through our old neighborhood

See all the Chevy Impalas in their front yards up on blocks

And I park in an alley

And I read through the postcards you continue to send

Where as indirectly as you can, you ask what I remember

I like these torture devices from my old best friend

[Pre-Chorus 1]

Well, I'll tell you what I know, like I swore I always would

I don't think it's gonna do you any good

[Chorus]

And I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok down

Toward the water

[Verse 2]

I always get a late start when the sun's going down

The traffic's thinning out; the glare is hard to take

I wish the West Texas Highway was a Möbius strip

I could ride it out forever

And when I feel my heart break

I almost swear I hear it happen, it's that clear and that hard

I come in off the highway and I park in my front yard

[Pre-Chorus 2]

Fall out of the car like a hostage from a plane

Think of you a while, start wishing it would rain

[Chorus]

And I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok down

Toward the water

[Verse 3]

I come into the house, put on a pot of coffee

Walk the floors a little while

Set your postcard on the table with all the others like it

Start sorting through the pile

I check the pictures and the postmarks and the caption and the stamp

For signs of any pattern at all

When I come up empty-handed the feeling almost overwhelms me

I let a few of my defenses fall

[Pre-Chorus 3]

And I smile a bitter smile; it's not a pretty thing to see

I think about a railroad platform back in 1983

[Chorus]

And I remember the train headed south out of Bangkok down

Toward the water