Arkansas Writer: She Was My Baby

She was my baby. She was my gal.

She used to make me feel ten feet tall.

But she got tired of my foolin’ around.

Now she moved way over on the east side of town.

She was my baby. She was my gal.

She used to make me laugh. She taught me how to cry.

She showed me what it meant when she said goodbye.

She was my baby. She was my gal.

She was my baby. She was my Gal.

She used to say how much she loved my touch.

I didn’t think she would ever leave me,

Till she said, “Old man just you wait and see.”

She was my baby. She was my gal.

She used to make me laugh. She taught me how to cry.

She showed me what it meant when she said goodbye.

She was my baby. She was my gal.

I used to walk twelve miles just to see her face.

But curiosity sure messed me up.

Now I sleep in the back of my pickup truck.

She was my baby. She was my gal.

She used to make me laugh. She taught me how to cry.

She showed me what it meant when she said goodbye.

She was my baby. She was my gal.

Now if I could make a million dollars or more.

I’d lay it down at her feet on the Mississippi’s shore.

She’d just say, “If you gave me Memphis,

I wouldn’t trust you out side of my door.”

She was my baby. But she ain't no more.

She was my gal. Now she ain't even my pal.

She was my baby. She was my gal.

Arkansas Writer