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Please don't be mad at me for callinI saw this phone and I had to dial
We left so many things unspoken
I thought we could talk for just a while
Now I'm not sayin' you owe me anything
My memories are my souvenirs
Like all those cherry lipstick "love-you-baby"s
You scribbled on faded motel mirrors
Now, I'm Greyhound bound for anywhere
I told the man, "The next bus'll do"
They're callin' the Twelve-twenty for Tupelo
Just one thing before I go
Tell me, is he good to you
I talked it over with Hadley
He's still out there off of Highway 10
If anybody could explain it
I figured good old Hadley can
His wrinkled hands upon the table
He said, "I hate to break the news
But sometimes there ain't no explaining"
The things a woman'll put you through
HATA BİLDİR
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