| You can tell the world, you never was my girl |
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You can burn my clothes when I am gone |
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Or you can tell your friends, just what a fool I’ve been |
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And laugh and joke about me on the phone |
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You can tell my arms, go back on to the farm |
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You can tell my feet to hit the floor |
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Or you can tell my lips, to tell my fingertips |
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They won’t be reaching out for you no more |
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I just don’t think it’d understand |
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He might blow up and kill this man |
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You can tell your maw, I moved to Arkansas |
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You can tell your dog that bite my leg |
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Or tell your brother Cliff, who’s fist can tell my lip |
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He never really liked me anyway |
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Go tell your aunt Louise, tell anything you please |
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Myself already knows I’m not okay |
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Or you can tell my eye, to watch out for my mind |
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It might be walkin’ out on me today |
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I just don’t think it’d understand |
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He might blow up and kill this man |
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I just don’t think it’d understand |
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He might blow up and kill this man |
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I just don’t think it’d understand |
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He might blow up and kill this man |
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