Good morning, my darling and my blood is boiling
I can’t do a damn thing that’s right or important
You’re coming home late and I just don’t like it
But I cannot help that I get so excited when I see you
There’s booze on your breath but there’s some on mine too
The mud tells a story that’s caked on your shoes
Bruises on your legs and scrapes on your arms
So pardon me, darling, if I seem alarmed when I see you
And I’m sad 'cause I can’t describe
How the words, they get caught in my throat and I just wanna die
And I’m scared that you’re gonna leave
And you’ll never see all the good things I want you to see