First you take my girl when she was mine
But when you stole my drink I draw the line
Hold me back so I can't reach my gun
Seeing red I think you better run
Daphne called me back said she was wrong
My voice it made a quiver then a song
She left me on a Sunday after church
By the Monday he had left her hurt
Every now and then I hear her voice
Crying out to me I can't rejoice
I can't taste the whiskey anymore
Since the fiend he took that dirty...
Every word she said was drenched in gold
Plated like the symphonies of old
Running, crawling back to me she came
Broken hearted in the pouring rain
A crying shame it seems to be
Dirty patches on my knees
I have the lock you have they key
A crying shame it seems to be
With dirty patches on my knees
I have the lock you have the key
I have the lock you have the key