When you see a roadside bar
Or an old button-down with a cigarette scar
Think of me, babe, ‘cause I’ll be thinking of you
It’s not that you’ll know where I’m at
I won’t be calling up your house or nothing like that
I’m an old man now and thinking’s what I do
I took my car this morning, going to get new shocks
I saw a woman out watering her window box
And a couple of kids, I thought could have been you and me
Something sparked up in my brain to tell you the truth
I bought a box of raisins and a Baby Ruth
And sat down on the curb - twelve o’clock turned into three
I can’t explain your touch by saying baby’s got it in the genes
‘Cause, girl, that don’t account for much but it sells a lot of magazines
Living without you, babe, it ain’t so bad
I got a memory of you I didn’t know I had
And it’s rattling around, being called back out of the deep
I’ll be the first one to tell you not much can last
But I knew that full well before you came and past
So why are you on my mind, tonight, when I’m trying to sleep
I can’t explain your touch by saying baby’s got it in the genes
‘Cause, girl, that don’t account for much but it sells a lot of magazines
So, if you sit down heavy with your pen and ink
Or you’re talking to yourself while you’re scrubbing the sink
Well then talk to me, girl, ‘cause that’s when I’m talking to you
I can’t explain your touch by saying baby’s got it in the genes
‘Cause, girl, that don’t amount to much but it sells a lot of magazines