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I'm coming into your town |
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Night is falling to the ground |
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But I can still see where you loved yourself |
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Before he tore it all down. April 12th |
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With nobody else around; you were outside the house |
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(Where's your mother?) |
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When he put you in the car |
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When he took you down the road |
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And I can still see where it was open |
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The door he slammed closed |
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It was open, the door he slammed closed. It was open, long ago |
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But don't lose me now, don't lose me now |
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Though I know that I'm not useful anyhow |
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Just let me stick around |
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And I tell you, like before |
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You should say his name the way that he said yours |
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You don't want to say his name any more |
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Oh, Cynda Moore |
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Baby daughter on the road |
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Wrapped up warm in daddy's coat |
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Well I can still see the cigarette's heat |
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Can't believe all that you're telling me |
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What is cutting like the smoke through your teeth as you are telling me "forget it" |
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But if I could tear his throat |
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Spill his blood between my jaws |
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And erase his name for good, don't you know that I would? |
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Don't you realize I wouldn't pause |
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That I would cut him down with my claws |
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If I could have somehow never let that happen? |
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Or I'll call, some black midnight, **** up his new life where they don't know what he did |
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Tell his brand-new wife and second kid |
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And I tell you, like before |
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You should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours |
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You want no part of his life any more |
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Oh, Cynda Moore |
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Don't lose me now, let me help you out |
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Though I know that I can't help you anyhow |
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When I watch you I'm proud |
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When I tell you twice before |
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You should wreck his life the way that he wrecked yours |
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You want no part of his life any more |
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Oh, Cynda Moore |
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It'll never be the way it was before |
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But I wish that you would let me through that door |
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Let me through that door |
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Let me through that door |
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Let me through that door, baby |
