I see you gracefully swimming with the country club women
In the Greenwood southside society pool
I love your amethyst eyes and your Protestant thighs
You're a shimmering socialite jewel
Out the window, in the harbor, he saw a little ship
The moon was worn just slightly on the right
And they slow danced so the needle wouldn't skip
Until the room was filled with light
I'm drunk on a couch in Nashville
In a duplex near the reservoir
And every single thought is like a punch in the face
I'm like a rabbit freezing on a star
I asked the painter why the roads are colored black
He said, "Steve, it's because people leave
And no highway will bring them back"
So if you don't want me, I promise not to linger
But before I go, I've gotta ask you, dear, about that tan line on your ring finger