Thirteen Hours

Is it my fault that you never got home?

If we'd taken the train, I guess you would’ve got home.

I was so tired of lugging those bags around.

We hopped in a cab, you were so excited

To stretch out in bed, it was such a long flight.

Thirteen hours of trying to fall asleep.

Judy and me crossing the street,

She said, “What did you leave for the cabbie?”

“That's such a bad tip.”

She walked back to give him some more.

I heard tires come screaming around the corner,

Some drunk asshole saying he was so sorry.

One broken hand, two bruised ribs, and one hospital gown.

“If you weren't such a cheap bastard, I'd be at home.”

“Oh, I'm not made of money, you should have left it alone.”

As soon as I say it, she looks at me so surprised:

“Of course it's your fault that I never got home.”