Song for a Deck Hands Daughter

McMurtry He'd always whistle Jolie Blonde On his way out the back door on a Friday night So many times he just stayed gone Rarely did he try to treat your mama right Shut off the tractor with the field half mowed Set the brake and headed down the road Came home for Christmas Never said where he'd been With No presents for the children Only stories for the men (chorus) Still your mama called him daddy She never told him no Said she couldn't help but love him You wondered how it could be so He'd work two weeks out on a river barge She worked in the factory never missed a day He'd spend his week off holding up the bar Never took him long to drink a deckhand's pay Wind off the river Cut the lines on his face And left him dreaming of some other place Maybe Memphis town or Baton Rouge When it's cold in Cape Girardeau There's nothing much to do (chorus) And if his suitcase wasn't standing in the hall He might not be coming home at all And all the sides of him you never knew before Would be drifting down the river to another back door (chorus)