Her hair is like a crow's nest
|
She's got glitter in her eye
|
Her smile is like a jack-o-lantern
|
Trying not to cry
|
She's been living been living pretty hard
|
Since her old man up and died a year ago
|
|
And I see her every morning
|
While she's walking to the check
|
She holds her head like she's got something heavy
|
Hanging 'round her neck
|
|
Puts some money in her purse
|
And hides some where he won't expect before she goes
|
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
|
Well she stole more than a little
|
From her folks in Cartersville
|
With that wrong foot in that right boot
|
Left a lot of room to fill
|
|
With one foot on the platform
|
And a lot of time to kill
|
They shoulda' known
|
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
|
Well I haven't seen her lately
|
Guess I just assumed the worst
|
But I think I kinda miss her
|
Standing there with her lips pursed.
|
|
First thing in the morning
|
Leaning up against the church
|
Like it's your own
|
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
|
-----------------
|
Don't You Think Someone Should Take You Home
|
Butch Walker |