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.