She took a plane down to Charlotte to catch the moonlight in her eyes. and as the she crashed in to the darkness of the East Kentucky pines I read the note beside the coffee that said, “I’m hollow.” and signed “Goodbye, don’t follow”. I spent the night out in the suburbs drinking bourbon with her dad. I never told him of the note and those five words or how I’d never felt so bad. As the sun broke the horizon the night turned yellow, and he said, “God’s a funny fellow”. I took a car back down to Mobile Bay to get some sunshine on my skin. As the wheels caressed the highway with gravity wearing on my grin; the dashboard Jesus doesn’t help me once again Please come back. Without you here I’m hollow.