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Four small hands,
Tugging at her skirt,
The calls him from the payphone, twists the button on her shirt
It's closing time already,
The cold begins to hurt,
She pats their hair, says he's almost there as they bury in her skirt,
The ringing beats on endlessly in her head and at his work
So many headlights, taillights go in the dirty gray late winter snow,
Inside her head she hears a voice start screaming,
Where's my happy ending,
this isn't what i bought,
now i'm raising two, where the hell are you,
drinking money shot by shot,
i could have been so special, i should've gone to school,
now i'm trapped at home, and wait by the phone,
sitting helpless like a child for you,
oh no, oh no, oh no,
i told myself i'd never be my mother,
i did the best i could, this ain't my job no more find another,
find another, whoa, no, no
her baby boy arrived two years later,
and now she's gone but six small feet still chase her,
she used to read their crayon cards and draw pretty mermaids in the yard,
I guess she didn't think it'd be so hard when he seemed so safe,
He tried to drink his rage away,â¦â¦
He didn't show up anyway
So many headlights, taillights go in the dirty gray late winter snow,
Inside her head she hears a voice start screaming,
You gotta close your eyes to keep yourself from screaming,
You gotta close your eyes to keep yourself from screaming,
I didn't want to goâ¦
I just don't knowâ¦
I guess she had to go