Lyrics

You’d only return to the scene of the crime, when it’s this pretty
And we’re a couple hundred miles, down the coast
When the Ravenal is open every weeknight
And the harbor tells you that one day, she’ll be a ghost

Carolina, you caught me fleeing
Found me retreating, my home state
Carolina, I’m looking for meaning
Trying to find my way home
Without her face

Reb’s corner seems quiet this evening
And the Line Street crowd, has even packed it in
I think I’ll take to walking St. Phillip till morning
The streetlights get hazy and home feels miles away

I think I might come out of hiding
I think you’re almost a memory
There are all kinds of waterways to get lost in, down here
I’m feeling almost not bad