I had a love I thought was true
Until I let her go.
Now each night I cry myself to sleep,
Because I miss her so.
Only a fool would let his love
Just turn and walk away,
So if I could see her once again,
I’d try to make her stay.
The fate for fools is barroom stools
And facing life alone.
So I wish that she’d come back to me
And bring her love back home.
Aug. 19, 1980
© 2010 – 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.