Antiques & Spanish Moss

1981 Dodge Station Wagon
Fire engine red, AC dead, muffler dragging
We'd driven that ol' car down every road of the sunshine state
Our whole life packed in it, traveling for heaven's sake
And it didn't matter how many times that we'd stopped
We couldn't not pull over for antiques and Spanish Moss

They'd fight in that car, yell and scream like it wasn't
A tiny space, they'd shout and raise hell with all the cussin'
And I'd try to shrink my way back into that broken old faux leather
Nowhere to go and every word felt like it lasted forever
And sometimes the only time it stopped
Was when we'd pull off for antiques and Spanish Moss

Her daddy had a wood-shop, built furniture by hand
And those little shops smelled a lot like her memories of him
We'd drive and drive and maybe she got bored so she'd pick a fight with dad
He'd leave her on the side of the road, swear he wasn't coming back
But he'd always turn around, they'd pretend they hadn't fought
And he'd pull off for her antiques and Spanish Moss

I still hate the smell of hand-hewn rocking chairs and tables
Took years for me to finally build a life that could be stable
Cuz kids ain't supposed to hear all the shit when grown ups fight
And sometimes I kinda wonder what a normal childhood looks like
I grew up fast, still wondering what I lost
On Florida roads pulling off for antiques and Spanish Moss