It's ten o'clock on Tuesday, you'll be on your way I know

You said you'd leave by Nine, I'd hoped you'ld call before you go.

And I'm too scared to phone in case you think I'm clinging to you,

And so I write a song and know I won't be singing to you.

You said you'ld stay away until the money's all been spent,

And I am hoping that you shop and eat and don't relent,

Just hit those stores and take those rides and hand out all those dues,

Then hurry home to me, love, while I sing the lonesome blues.