Rain dripping off the brim of my hat,
And here I am walking down 66, wish
he hadn't done me that way
Sleeping under a table at a roadside park,
a girl could wake up dead
But sure feels warmer than it did
sleepin' in our king- sized 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,
people writing letters back home
Tomorrow he'll probably want me
back but I'll still be just as gone
