I paint up my face like some woman named Trixie. I'm taking my sorrow to town. I gave up the paint for my first miss to fix it. I show good use, I'm getting around. The boy's in the back room. The boy's in the back room. There's someone waiting for me in the back room. Some old truck drivers picking up a hitchhiker and showing off his latest tattoo. Say we're all coming to ride when it's cold outside and I won't come home until I'm through. The boy's in the back room. The boy's in the back room. There's someone waiting for me in the back room. If they be swapping lies, or swatting flies, or thinking bad of me, I'll be the one to someone will give me a sign, see you around next time. So think of me when I am gone. The boy's in the back room. The boy's in the back room. There's someone waiting for me in the back room. The boy's in the back room. The boy's in the back room. There's someone waiting for me in the back room. See you around next time. Always doing fine. Think of me when I am gone. Think of me when I am gone.