You'Ve Taken Her For Granted

You call her without warning, late one Friday night, She says “Give me half-an hour…,” and she leaves on the light. ‘Comes the morning after, eggs and bacon, coffee black— You’ve taken her for granted, but she always takes you back. She isn’t quite as flashy as those others you prefer, But like some lonesome boomerang, you return to her. She’s got old-fashioned compassion, that these “Nineties ladies lack— You’ve taken her for granted, but she always takes you back. Could it be that she loves you? Or else got nothing else to do? She understands you like a sister— She’s the best friend that you knew. Now the twisting road is narrow, when the years come crowding in, And you look inside your glass, and see the man you might have been. She’s got two children—she’s got a husband—and you, you’ve got the railroad track, You’ve taken her for granted, but she always took you back Until she found somebody new…somebody true.