It was June or September I don't rightly remember
The first time I laid eyes on you
It was June or September Seattle or Denver
The first time I laid eyes on you
You wore black silver stockings with a seam down the back
Your dress was split to your thighs
And your hair was a place for a dozen red roses
After it smothered your side
And you dealt in the card games in smokey saloons
Haunted you saw the sun rise
But as soon as I'd leave you I looked to your photograph
Teardrops would swell in your eyes
There were three tiny daughters that lived with your mother
You only wanted their best
But you could not give them the things that you wanted to
You only wanted their best
It was June or September I don't rightly remember
The first time I laid eyes on you
It was June or September Seattle or Denver
The first time I laid eyes on you
