I heard the front door closing softly
As I awakened from my sleep
With the last touch of her lips, Lord
Like a whisper on my cheek
And I cursed the sun for rising
Cause the worst, Lord, is yet to come
Cause this morning she'll be leaving
But come sundown she'll be gone
See the lipstick on her pillow
That I placed beneath her head
And the salt sheaves still feel warm, Lord
Where she lay upon my bed
And it hurts to know it's over
For the hurt, Lord, has just begun
Cause this morning she's just leaving
But come sundown she'll be gone
