That wasn't me at a quarter to three back in our backyard

Tearing up the roses and the home grown tomatoes in my new car

Those bottles in the driveway and the bottles in the hall

Well I don't know where they came from

It must be burglars in the neighborhood

I sure hope they catch those bums



I know you've got your own version of the truth

There's only three things left now I can do

Deny, Deny, Deny



Well I was allegedly dropped

By a truck stop waitress at our front door

Now who you gonna believe

Your sweet lovin' daddy or those lying eyes of yours

That lipstick on my collar

That you found this morning well that's not lipstick at all

I was just in a hurry to get back to you honey

Had myself a little fall



Oh yeah you've got your own version of the truth

There's only three things left now I can do

Deny, Deny, Deny



Oh please don't answer the phone

Hey ain't it great being home and alone like this

That cigarette voice asking for her big boy

Why should I know who that is

Yeah I know it looks bad but

You're lookin' at a victim of a circumstance or two

Oh what is it now seems like nothing I do ever pleases you







Deny, deny, deny