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...