there's no one to talk to so late in the night or early in the morning-call it what you like there's no one to talk to about mama's good word to watch out for those brown-eyed southern girls there's just the whisper of ice melting in a glass watered down whiskey is the flavor of the past you can stare at the sun until you go blind or you can spend your days kicked back with your kind you can sing your problems to the drunk moon and on a good night it looks like god winking back at you she said, 'come hither, boy. i like what you're about.' said, 'how does that grab you?' said, 'it turns me inside out.' 'that's good', she said, 'we could get busy for a spell' i move on in and when it's far too late and near i tell ya i look around and i'm upside down wrapped around a tail-spin on fire the sweetest, strangest danger colliding with desire you can stare at the sun until you go blind never hide or run, neither seek nor find you can salve your soul in the sweet glow of the moon can you ever know if your the player or the tune i need a longer highway and a few more songs i don't know where i want to go but i'll take whatever comes if forgetting was as easy as just crossing state lines i'd be on a hot run for the border every time all through the night i can hear mama say watch out for southern girls with their wet words and ways you can stare at the sun until you go blind and you'll carry that light with you until you die you can spend your nights alone with the moon whatever you love will always leave you too soon