(Earl Montgomery)



The wind blow Sunday paper at my feet

As I walk down this cold and lonely street

My hand search through my pocket for a dime

While the mem'ry of you eats away my mind.



And looking back I find that I was wrong

The wrong I'm on won't lead me back to home

And I can't turn back cause everything is gone

Yes, it's gone and right won't touch a hand that's filled with wrong.



I was filled with so much jealousy

And doubted all the love you gave to me

But now I see the kind of fool I've been

And I'll never see the one I love again.



And looking back I find that I was wrong

The wrong I'm on won't lead me back to home

And I can't turn back cause everything is gone

Yes, it's gone and right won't touch a hand that's filled with wrong.



Right won't touch a hand that's filled with wrong...