Lover, take my hands and tie me
With chafing, metaphorical ropes.
Don't let me chase my dreams,
Please keep me from my hopes.

Truth is, if you weren't here,
I'd just seek money and renown.
I'd pack my car, point it south,
And leave this stinkin' backwoods town.

See, I'd go be rich and famous,
I'd prove everybody wrong.
I'd be the next Bette Davis,
To my public, I'd...