When the wine stops working and you’re all run out / And all of your high hopes have all headed south / And the songs left the stable and they never came home / And there ain’t no forgetting that you’re out on your own (Gregory Alan Isakov)

Train station, I know you all too well / From the boarding we all came and fell / Into your room / The tracks raced beneath our feat / Through square windows, so clean / Well I could see them walking away (Gregory Alan Isakov)

Traveling through the graveyard with a suitcase full of sparks / Honey, I’m just trying to find my way to you / Lit up every campfire I found out in the dark / Oh, I cut down all the cottonwoods (Gregory Alan Isakov)