He washes his face in the morning sun Streaking 'cross his bed Reaches out for a cigarette Finds an empty pack instead Morning brings a thirst for freedom He's bound as he can get! 'Been trying to escape her memory But he hasn't made it yet He stands in front of the mirror and stares At the three day growth on his face But the lines of pain and worry Ain't no razor can erase He's looking forward to a day of hard labor Swear pouring through his pores It's a back breaking sanctuary From the hell his night holds in store 'Cause at twilight..she's a bloodhound on his trail Come midnight.......she's the jailer Comes to lock him in his cell Where he struggles in a web of bitter truth 'Til he wakes up soaking wet Dealing with a memory like her How can the boy.........Forget Tell me! How can the boy.......Forget Colab. with Jim Rushing Copyright All rights reserved