She might have been a nice girl If she hadn’t had a draggy mother She might have been a good chick If she hadn’t had a rotten father She might have played the right hunch If she hadn’t been so narrow-minded She might have had a whole bunch If she hadn’t been so far behind it Oh does it hurt when you know you can’t play it the way that your beau knows Oh does it hurt when you know you can’t say it the way that your beau knows And you know that that’s the way that the show goes And you know it really has to go on.
She drank the army’s red wine But she never found a moment’s pleasure She smelled the salty sea brine But she never found the buried treasure She might have played the chords right But the song was never meant for singing She might have really broke loose But she never made it past the clinging I can see that it hurts when you know you can’t play it the way that your beau knows I can see that it hurts when you know you can’t say it the way that your beau knows And you know that that’s the way that the show goes And you know it really has to go on.