Ghost in My Bed

By: Fee

Here I am again, alone, I’m half-drunk, and just a little crazy

Drinking rum, reminiscing about a love that we once had

Once again, I pick up my old six-string and I start strumming

Once again, I choose those old hurting songs, so aching sad

Willie, Waylon, George and all those other good old boys

Make it easy to stay in a constant state of heart-broke blue

They’re a dying breed who knew the pain of love and losing

It seems, somehow, they even knew the story of me and you

There was a time we thought we had the greatest love story

I wrote you love songs, decorated them in little hearts of red

Those days are gone now and the rum bottles nearly empty

Time for another night with the ghost who haunts my bed…