From a Kitchen Table - Dave Alvin

I hope this letter finds you

Wherever you may be

'Cause I mailed some awhile back

And they were all returned to me

Ain’t nothin' I can tell you 'bout the hometown

Everything changes, but nothing’s new

Just Sunday night at the kitchen table

Finishin' a beer and thinkin' of you

And I still work the same job

Just live with my mom for free

'Cause ever since the old man passed on

It just got harder to leave

Well I heard a rumor that you got married

Though you swore that you never would

I guess you finally got your own kids now

You ever tell 'em 'bout the old neighborhood?

Like the time we stole your dad’s car

Drove all night down Imperial Highway

You kept sayin' «Maybe we should turn around,»

And I said «It don’t take much to get away.»

But I still work the same job

Just live with my mom for free

'Cause ever since the old man passed on

It just got harder to leave

Guess that’s all that I’ve got to tell you

I guess things turned out how they’re meant to be

I just hope that this letter finds you

But until then I’ll just keep it with me

And I still work the same job

Just live with my mom for free

'Cause ever since the old man passed on

It just got harder to leave