In the corner of the bar there stands a jukeboxWith the best of country music, old and newYou can hear your five selections for a quarterAnd somebody else's songs when yours are through
I got good Kentucky whiskey on the counterAnd my friends around to help me ease the pain'Til some button-pushing cowboy plays that love songAnd here I am just missing you again
Please Mr. please, don't play B-17It was our song, it was his song but it's overPlease Mr. please, if you know what I meanI don't ever wanna hear that song again
If I had a dime for every time I held youThough you're far away, you've been so close to meI could swear I'd be the richest girl in NashvilleMaybe even in the state of Tennessee
But I guess I'd better get myself together'Cause when you left, you didn't leave too much behindJust a note that said, "I'm sorry" by your pictureAnd a song that's weighing heavy on my mind
Please Mr. please, don't play B-17It was our song, it was his song but it's overPlease Mr. please, if you know what I meanI don't ever wanna hear that song again