Maggie looks out her window,
|
Sees a cab in the street
|
Lets out a point-blank whistle,
|
It stops with a screech
|
She picks up the last box,
|
That sits in the corner
|
She turns around to take
|
A mental photograph
|
She says to herself,
|
"I think a toast is in order,"
|
And she holds up
|
An invisible wine glass
|
|
(chorus)
|
"Here's to the fool I was
|
Here's to the bride I could never be
|
I've gotta know what's truth and what's fiction
|
I gotta feel like my love's got conviction
|
So tell me truth
|
'Cause I got me suspicions
|
And I tell you if it's the last thing I do
|
I won't cry over you . . . "
|
|
|
Maggie sits in the kitchen
|
of Miss Bethany Jones
|
Whose pouring the coffee
|
and gathering stones
|
"You gave him ultimatums
|
They did not even scare him
|
He'd walk a plank
|
before he'd step down the aisle
|
Take care of yourself, girl
|
He's the one who's gotta change him
|
Let him ponder bachelorhood for a long while"
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
'Cause I'm done with that
|
I'm done with crying
|
Seems like it's the only thing
|
that I've been trying
|
|
|
They're taking it down
|
to the heart of the matter
|
Talking the big picture
|
like it's a little tiny thing
|
Smaller than a bread box
|
Thinner than a whisker
|
They split like an atom
|
then the telephone rings
|
|
|
He says,
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
"I just had to call you
|
I feel like I've been spinning my wheels
|
I just had to tell you how I feel
|
I'm not asking you to
|
If only you'd listen
|
Don't cry "
|
|
-----------------
|
I Won't Cry Over You
|
Ellis Paul |