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. . . And she seemed to think of no one else but me, But I played . . . as I always did before. This caused her to . . . our front door. I thought she’d return, but in that, I was wrong. I can’t drown my sorrow with women, wine, and song. Her heart, it was broken. I hang my head in shame. I dream of her each night and call out her name. She begged me to quit going out to the bars, But I thought the bright lights were better than the stars. She wouldn’t share a life of sin and shame. Now I must admit that I am to blame. If only I could tell her the way I feel now, I’d beg her come back . . . I know she’d be happy; her tears would all be dry. I’d give up that breight light for the stars in her eyes. I think I will leave here, but don’t know where to roam, For this empty house is no longer a home. I . . . love . . . No more from her side would I ever want to go. |
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All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas Back to the Song Index Back to the Wolf Collection Homepage ©Copyright 2002 Lyon College |