You use to travel south. Making all kinds of interesting stops Along the way. You'd stay there, until I was ready to go. And then you'd come home. Park the bus in the garage Pulling forward and then backing up Then forward again All the while with your breath, heavy on my neck Your thumb on the radio dial And your arm around my waist. But you were drinking then. Drinking made you want to travel. South. Drinking made you love me. Now I'm headed North And you're just where you are.