Well she took all the change from my pockets
Then she stole the keys to my car
But she really put the hatin’ knife in my heart
When she cut all the strings on my guitar
Now I see only letters,
And the music can’t play or be played
And that’s only a song half written
So I know I’ll be going insane
No, it’s not because now I’ll be lonely
And it’s not because I’m swimming in booze
It’s just at the end of the day
Because of her ways
I got me no strings to pluck the blues
She tells me that I should have seen what she needed from me
Which means, I guess, that all the sex wasn’t free
Because last night that bitch snuck around with some wire snips
And cut my true love’s neck from E to e
That woman can’t play or be played.
Not even for a short melody, or kiss
But the only time I’ll compare my guitar to a girl
Is if the strings are broken like a good woman is
No, it’s not because she up and she quit me
It’s not because she was something to lose
It’s because when I’m stoned and alone
And she hasn’t come home
I got me no strings to pluck the blues
|
Submission Name: The Change From My Pockets
