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Ever
present was the feeling,
He was missing out on life,
When the girl he met got pregnant,
And he took her as his wife.
Many
plans were in his future,
Many things that he would do,
Now he has a wife and baby,
And he feels his life is through.
Though he
tried to be courageous,
Though he tried to be a man,
He soon found he couldn't do it,
So he packed his things and ran.
"Curse
the man who leaves his woman,
When she needs her man the most,
May he live his life in torment,
And in Hell forever roast."
He went
looking for his future,
Never thinking of his past,
And he found a little solace,
But the solace didn't last.
For his
future wasn't out there,
He had left it back at home,
When he left the ones who loved him,
And decided he would roam.
Now he's
sitting in a tavern,
Where he's getting rather drunk,
And he's buried in depression,
For he's feeling like a skunk.
"Curse
the man who leaves his woman,
When she needs her man the most,
May he live his life in torment,
And in Hell forever roast."
And the
mother of the baby,
Sits at home, and all alone,
And she prays that he will call her,
As she waits there by the phone.
But the
phone is sitting silent,
And her dreams are up in smoke,
And this thing she knew as marriage,
Has become a lousy joke.
Now she
worries for her future,
As she thinks about the past,
And she worries for her baby,
For it seems the die is cast.
"Curse
the man who leaves his woman,
When she needs her man the most,
May he live his life in torment,
And in Hell forever roast."
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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