Fake Roses

Fake roses on the mantle Elvis postcards on the fridge Ed lays softly by the ringer Baby's sleeping in the crib Old broken taped up tail light On momma's Monte Carlo She don't open all the gas bills Just leaves it on the dashboard It's a low and lonesome song When the wind sweeps through the pine She just turns the TV on Puts her mind on better times Takes the long way home from work Car parked on the wrong side of the bridge Country gold, Saturday night, and smokes one You don't have to tell me any of this It's a low and lonesome song When the wind sweeps through the pine She just turns the TV on Puts her mind on better times Your heart is breaking I hear what you're saying You don't have to tell me anything He won't come around again She don't open that front door She hears that low and lonesome sound She don't answer anymore.