A little ways up the interstatenpassed Winslow County Linenhalf a mile from Prince's Dairy Farmnoff old rural route 9njust passed the graveyardnwhere the road starts to bendnmake a left on a gravel roadnand all the way down the endnnext to a rusted old mailboxnwith nobody's namena concrete foundationnis about all that remainsnof a house that I lived innand that was so long agonback when I had it allndown on Violin Road.nnSee, I had me a girl back thenna little place all our ownnwas a handy man specialnsure felt like homenhomemade curtains in the windowsnnothin' hangin' on the wallsndidn't have a very big bank accountnman, but we had it allnsecond hand sofanan old color TVnit was alright with babynwell it was alright with mensittin' home in the eveningsnwatchin' The Antiques Roadshownand all was as it should have beenndown on Violin Road.nnThen one April eveningnshe said her goodbyenand packed up her suitcasenwhen i asked her whynshe saidnthe more I look for reasonsnthe more I'm spinnin' my wheelsnsometimes you just can't explainnall them things that you feelnbut I stood in the doorwaynthe night black as coalnand i can't rememberneven feelin' that coldnand the loneliest feelin'nthat I ever knowednwas watchin' the taillights disappearnfrom Violin RoadnnSo I took to the whiskeynhad me them old broken down bluesnstay out all night drinkin'nwake up wearin' my shoesnone night closin' Joe's Placenstumbled home drunk and tirednfell asleep smokin' a cigarettenlost it all in a firenthat Winslow hook and ladder comenman they couldn't get a cat out of a treenlet alone put a fire outnthey could only save menfrom the ambulance windownI watched it go up in smokenain't it just like the love we hadndown on Violin RoadnnWhere she mighta went tonwell, I'll never knownlost touch with all them friends I hadnthat's the way these things gonlost the job with the countynlost the gig with the bandnsweepin' floors at Howard's Grocery Storensleepin' in the vannbut as for (indistinguishable)nbaby, I ain't too hard to findnI'm out here every Saturdayncome rain or come shinenget a six pack of tall boysnand drink 'em real slowndrink to what might have beenndown on Violin Road