Excuse me, friend,
can you help me, please?
How long has the train been gone?
The train that my girl was on,
the woman with the yellow hair.
She had her brown suitcase,
and maybe she was crying,
so you'd know her for sure.
She had her kind of childlike face,
surely has a woman's way.
And I love her,
I don't think I can live
without her.
And I miss her,
if you see her, tell her to come back again.
Mister, you may know,
you may understand,
just exactly what
turns me on.
That woman tried to change my ways,
she wanted me to settle her down.
To make convention fit me like a pauper's clothes,
but I ain't made that way,
no, no.
I told her I was just no good,
watched her walk on through that door.
And I miss her,
she had hardly turned away, and God, I miss her.
And I miss her, I ought to find her,
if you see her, tell her to come back again.
Whoa,
whoa, whoa.
And find me another place Where maybe I can see her face
That woman with the yellow hair
I'll take her brown
suitcase And I'll try to stop her crying
She'll only come home I'd even wear a bandeau
That's the way to make her my own
You see I love her
And I know that I can't live without her
I want her
I need her in my life again