Panties In Your Purse

I saw you standing in the hallway

Red plastic cup and one of them big long cigarettes

You asked me if I could play you some Dylan

I said, "Dylan, who?", you told me to kiss your ass

I apologized

But you could tell I didn't mean it by the way I rolled my eyes

Then you said "It wasn't me, it was you"

Somehow I knew you were gonna tell me why

Stuff was flying out of the window

Falling and breaking on the pavement underneath

He's screaming at you, red faced and fuming

He'd come home early, parked his car way up the street

You had your stockings in your hand, panties in your purse

It was 10 a.m, all the neighbors heard

Him calling you a whore and a tramp

You just stood there while your heels sank into the warm wet ground

He got a lawyer, you've got a bottle

He got the children and you moved in with your mama

She cooks you breakfast and lets you drive her car

She don't care how late you call to tell her where you are

Y'all still fight, she still nags you some

Somehow it's different now than you were young

It's your own damn fault, you've been through hell

For one reason or another, seems like she kinda blames herself