Well it's cold, and you're bored
From counting the smart cars on 94
When you dream you're back home
But the lakeside won't trust you to walk alone

Hollow trees, talk of hand
All the neckties are toasting with empty cans
And you know why she's gone
Clothes in the river, drifting on
Slide down south
When once in a while your confidence leaves you
Like smoke falls out her red mouth

Well she left you the holes
The tracks in the back yard, December snow
But those sad souvenirs
They end at the fence line, and they disappear

Why you'd follow her there?
Milwaukee's a deaf ear for winter prayers
There's no night, there's no day
With only hope in your pocket, and hell to pay

Slide down south
When once in a while your confidence leaves you
Like smoke falls out her red mouth

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): SAMUEL ERVIN BEAM