Blame It On My Youth

I heard the front door closing softly

As I waken from my sleep

With the last touch of her lips, Lord

Like a whisper on my cheek

And I curse the sun for rising

For the worst, Lord, is yet to come

'Cause this morning she's just leaving

But come sundown she'll be gone

See the lipstick on the pillow

That I placed beneath her head

And the soft sheets, they still feel warm, Lord

Where she laid 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

But come sundown she'll be gone