She reminds me some of a blue eyed doll a strange look there in her eyes Surprisingly quick with her movements like a woman who`s learned to survive She empties the ashtrays and passes the booze in a crude but professional style And her facial contortions are painfully set in a look that resembles a smile The small crowded bar roars loud its approval of some verbal blow that she`s dealt By telling a trucker from the Redball Express to have intercourse with himself In my mind I can see her room the place where the woman lives The rollers and the curlers and the old panty hose And the ceiling that leaks like a sieve And there`s pictures of Merle and Johnny and June and Kennedy there with a flag And a letter from home that she`s read ten times and an old blue traveling bag You know that man she loves ah he`s puttin` her on But no queen could love him more And in her mind their ship will sail to a hundred exotic shores Lord she`ll get no pity from me no she`s tough and she wouldn`t care But life is made up of wishes and dreams and she`s had more than her share As I sit here and drink and look for a song I think I just found me one There`s a difference in a fallen woman and one who is still hangin` on
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