Tekst:
Bruce Ed

It must be I have always loved you just never knew where I would find you You've always been the one babe now that I've found you I can't remember ever

Words & Music by Ed Bruce and Dee Moeller Were there never quite enough Sundays Did I leave out a birthday or two Did I make too much of mere holiday

Before the snow flies and summer dies the wildbirds fly away Before the winter falls the spirit calls and warns 'em not to stay And this morning something

There's a parking lot where the corner cafe stood One of the places we first fell in love They've built a waterslide on the bluff by the riverside Where

This is the last cowboy song the end of a hundred year waltz Voices sound sad as they're singing along another piece of America's lost He rides a feed

Take the last train to Clarksville and I'll meet you at the station You can be there by four-thirty cause I've made you reservation Don't be slow oh no

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive them old trucks Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such Mamas

Words & Music by Ed Bruce The lashes that she bats Above those big blue eyes are real The nails she scratches my back with are hers She's soft and warm

Did you ever say I'm lonesome and stop to wonder really what lonesome is Lonesome is a little boy standing in a crowd a telephone ringing in an empty