John Mann (Spirit of the West) described this a sounding like "an old classic" at a critique session a few months back.
Written, arranged, produced, and performed by David Maxwell
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(She’s not) The Marrying Kind
Well the rain poured down without me, leaving puddles in my tracks
She said she’s gone forever, so I guess she ain’t comin’ back
And though I listened for her footsteps, and heard her breathin’ at my door
That face will be gone tomorrow, and I’ll wake up on the floor
(Chorus)
And I guess it never hit me, when her Daddy said to me
“Son, don’t you do it.”
She’s not the marrying kind
High-heeled shoes at breakfast, champagne at her feet
Smile that burns like sunset, she’s the kind you just don’t meet
She’s got an ear for high fashion, hats from Timbuktu
Driving that old Rambler, don’t you know it’s coming through
(Chorus)
And it was like I had imagined, the colours of her hair
Don’t you know it
She’s not the marrying kind
Smothered me with passion, leaving tattoos on my skin
Broke me like a beggar, with her most original sin
You know I never listened, for the wolf outside my door
But when the muletrain comes tomorrow, I know I’ll be gone for sure
(Chorus)
And I felt like I’d imagined, the color of her hair
Don’t you know it
She’s not the marrying kind.
© 2006 David Maxwell
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