Thelma

I’m down to one key in my pocket*
The bus station locker downtown,
The soles of my shoes,
Are as thin as my wallet,
I been sleeping close to the ground
But buried up here in my memory,
Is a head full of living room hits,
I wrote about Thelma when we were an item,
And I was worth more than two bits,
So I’ll sing you a song about Thelma,
If you have a quarter to spare,
If you had the time or a bottle of wine,
That you’d be willing to share,
And later I’ll show you a picture,
Of Thelma when she’s in her prime,
If you want to see mr I’ve got the key,
And the bus station locker take dimes,
I had me a band in the 60's,
«ladies Texas outlaw,»
Thelma could sing so we moved nashville,
And in '68, she got hot,
A high flyin' record producer,
Told Thelma he’d make her a star,
He wined her and dined her and stole her away
And left me with my old guitar,
She died last year on my birthday,
The day that I turned 65,
Most have forgotten including her fans,
But I’m keeping her memory alive,
'cuz I’ve got this key in my pocket,
I’ve had since '72,
I’ve built her a shrine in that locker downtown,
And I think she’d be pleased if she knew
So I’ll sing you a song about Thelma,
If you have a quarter to spare,
If you have the time or a bottle of wine,
And you’d be willing to share,
Later I’ll show you a picture,
Of Thelma when she’s in her prime,
If you wanna see mr I’ve got the key,
And the bus station locker takes dimes
If you wanna see mr I’ve got the key
And the bus station locker takes dimes