I met her in Atlanta she was a dancing in a cafe
With a price tag on her body and a tombstone in her eye
You could tell she was not happy by the way she kept on staring
Past the other side of nowhere at a man she’d like to try
And the makeup she had painted could not hide the youthful motions
Of her body fom the music or the crowd
I started like all the others with my right hand in the pocket
While she showed us everything the law allowed
(Play it Pete Drake)
[ steel – fiddle ]
Twenty bucks an hour later my one bedroom apartment
I was feeling weak from all the seeds I’d sown
She was sweet she was gentle as she introduced my body
To some pleasures it had never ever known
When I woke up in the morning she was a laying there beside me
Like a kitten with her face turned to the sun
And a look of satisfaction on her lips that make me wonder
If she ever felt ashamed of what we’d done
So I left her in Atlanta…

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