She might have been a nice girl
If she hadn’t had a draggy mother
She might have been a good chick
If she hadn’t had a rotten father
She might have played the right hunch
If she hadn’t been so narrow-minded
She might have had a whole bunch
If she hadn’t been so far behind it
Oh does it hurt when you know you can’t play it the way that your beau knows
Oh does it hurt when you know you can’t say it the way that your beau knows
And you know that that’s the way that the show goes
And you know it really has to go on.
She drank the army’s red wine
But she never found a moment’s pleasure
She smelled the salty sea brine
But she never found the buried treasure
She might have played the chords right
But the song was never meant for singing
She might have really broke loose
But she never made it past the clinging
I can see that it hurts when you know you can’t play it the way that your beau knows
I can see that it hurts when you know you can’t say it the way that your beau knows
And you know that that’s the way that the show goes
And you know it really has to go on.
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