Swing Shift - Cherlene

What a night to work the graveyard, witching hour eight

Sneaking whiskey in my coffee, only thing that keeps me straight

But whiskey dreams of you until that whistle blew

Blew me out the door, I was coming home to you

Forty hours of graveyard to get home and fry your eggs

Pouring coffee in my whiskey, I’ve seen trouble in the drags

I’ve listened to the words, Just barely overheard

Stabbed me in the back, I was coming home for you

Forty bucks to go on layaway for my own diamond ring

But it’s my own damn fault

Should have told me when they changed my shift to sway

You never turned and saw, saw me out the door

Or even heard the diesel roar

Hear me coming home to you

Forty miles an hour rising when I hit your double wide

Drove that tractor through the trailer

Coming out on yonder side

Did you have the breath to curse?

Did you cry my name as I grounded in reverse?

Was there anything left of you?

In forty days they’ll strap me down

With a sponge and shave my head

And dim the lights of this old prison

Cause the governor wants me dead

That judge would have given me life

But that woman was her wife

He was calling out my name

Now I’m coming

Now I’m coming

Now I’m coming

Coming home to you

Now I’m coming home to you

Now I’m coming home to you