Rain dripping off the brim of my hat
Here I am walking down 66th
Wish she hadn't done me that way
Sleeping under a table at a roadside park
But it sure seems warmer than it did
Sleepin' in our king size bed
Wind whipping down the neck of my shirt
Like I ain't got nothing on
But I'd rather fight the wind and rain
Than what I've been fighting at home
Yonder comes a truck with the US mail
Now people writing letters back home
Tomorrow she'll probably want me back
But I'll still be just as gone