I can't get that out of my head--
the image of you still as a buck
in your recliner, bringing up
that old flame like i knew you
would, said you saw her out
in Florence, on the street, at the
bar, I can't be sure she doesn't
haunt you in other ways too,

i only meant i couldn't compete
with the memory, with the pull
with the drive for warmth, but
you should know that I've seen
your softness, your genial self,
the talkative little boy, you can't
lie to me about your pain but you
can lie to her
so

I won't try and argue the specifics
about time, or save you from going
around the mountainside, you fancy
yourself a dog man, born and bred out
of the cheyenne wilderness so if you're
gonna fight, then fight against the women
who are no good, 'cause I know you
feel it in your heart, darlin, I know you
feel it in your soul, cowboy, I know you
saw it briefly in a girl like me, matt.