He says:
Saw a girl I hadn’t seen in a long time. She used to be mine. Saw her laughing and happy and sweet, with her cheek pressed up against some other man’s cheek. That was her. That was her without me.
She says:
You fuck, don’t you remember leaving me? With someone or someplace else to be? I cried when my little love died. That was me. That was me without you.
They say:
You were the one for a long, long time.
I can’t stand feeling so mean. Sick and stupid and weak. I cry, and then, again and again, I say goodbye. That’s you and me. That’s you and me without us.
You were the one for a long, long time.
For a long, happy time.
Oh baby, how’d you find me in time to save me? Oh baby, I adore you. I know I’m crazy, but still, but still, thank God for you.
Oh baby, we’ll go dancing, or maybe swimming out at the lake.
But whatever we do, it’s just me and you. Wear that pink dress and your cowboy boots. Baby, I’m a mess, but you’re so cute, every morning when I wake up in your arms I just thank God for you.
Stranger things happen when hell breaks loose, so how would you like it? (Bear with me.)
I hear seagulls. I smell the ocean outside our window. Oh baby.
What have I done? How did I break? Where will I run, and who will I take? Where did I go?
And what’s left of me now? What’s left for you? A pale square on the wall in an empty room. Where did I go?
I see red and it all goes black, and I’m never coming back. I can’t stand to see you cry, but this is goodbye. This is goodbye.
These are the things that you do for love: You change yourself, you give things up. You turn out lights in empty rooms, and you try to keep everything in your pockets. But what if it never takes? What if I just can’t make it good enough? What if it’s never enough to make you happy?
And why did you hurt me? Who will you hurt now? And who needs hurting anyhow?
And how could I still love you? How could I stay? And how did everything still good in us just get thrown away?
Where did I go?
I see red and it all goes black, and I’m never coming back. I can’t stand to see you cry, but this is goodbye. This is goodbye. This is goodbye. This is goodbye. This is goodbye.
I saw on TV last night where some guy bought a painting at a yard sale for five dollars. It was worth much more than that, and I don’t wake up and cry no more. I guess I’m getting over her.
The fog was dense last Sunday. it broke an hour after dawn, revealing half the town still drunk and curled up on the lawn, and I don’t throw up Jim Beam no more. I guess I’m getting over her.
The bottom drawer’s still broken (baby, oh baby) and full of junk I never use (sweet baby, I miss you) but even so I can’t go near (my baby, I’m sorry). It’s like some kind of bruise (I miss you — won’t you come home?).
And I don’t wake up and cry no more. I don’t throw up Jim Beam no more. I don’t drive by where she lives anymore, and I don’t give a damn who she loves anymore. I guess I’m getting over her.
…
Recorded by Buzz Moran.
A rose in your hand, carry it away. My hair in a ring, carry it away. Every little thing, carry it away. Carry it away my love. My strong right hand, carry it away. My picture in a frame, carry it away. My last name, carry it away. Carry it away my love.
A sigh of love, carry it away. All that is mine, carry it away. Leave nothing behind, carry it away. Carry it away my love. The bird in my tree, carry it away. The way I’ve changed, carry it away. The credit and the blame, carry it away. Carry it away my love.
This little prayer, carry it away. A ribbon for your hair, carry it away. The very air, carry it away. Carry it away my love. This little poem, carry it away. My love, my own, carry it away. Just don’t forget to bring all these things back home when you carry it away, my love.
…
It was me that forgot to bring all these things back home.
