They got married early, never had no money,
Then when he got laid off, they really hit the skids,
He started up his drinking, then they started fighting,
He took it pretty badly, she took both the kids,
She said: "I'm not standing by, to watch you slowly die,
So watch me walking, out the door,
Out the door, out the door,
She said "Shove it, Jack, I'm walking out your fucking door"
She went to her brother's, got a little bar work,
He went to the buttery, he stayed about a year,
Then he wrote a letter, he said I want to see you,
She thought he sounded better, she sent him up the fare,
He was riding through the cane, in the pouring rain,
On Olympic, to her door.
To her door, to her door, to her door.
And his heart was singin' like a low-down guitar
He came in on a Sunday, every muscle aching, Walking in slow motion, like he'd just been hit,
Did they have a future? Would he know his children?
Could he make a picture and get them all to fit?
He was shaking in his seat, riding through the streets,
In a silvertop, to her,
Shaking in his seat, riding through the streets,
In a silvertop, to her door.
To her door, to her door, to her door
