Raylean

Raylean©2010

Raylean Marie Bonaparte
I knew she was trouble right from the start
A teenage mother with a taste for sin.
And I’d indulge her now and then.

Call me up late on the telephone.
I’m feeling kinda lonesome and my folks ain’t home.
Slip around back and I’ll sneak ya in.
Take you places that you never been.
(Chorus)
Raylean ,why you gotta be so wicked.
Raylean, momma you give me the blues.
Raylean, tell me that ya love me ,even if it ain’t true.
She had the prettiest young’un that you ever seen.
Daddy was a feller come from Abilene.
Played guitar in a punk rock band.
Knocked her up, she never saw him again.

Then one night on a lark.
We runaway to Houston to a trailer park.
She met a soldier and before I knowed.
She left me with young’un and a trailer note.
(Chorus)
Raylean, why you gotta be so wicked.
Raylean, momma ya give me the blues.
Raylean, I’ll be right here a wait ‘in on you.

I raised that young’un like she was my own.
Then late one night on the telephone.
Raylean’s voice out of the blue.
I’m pass’in through Houston ,been think ‘in bout you.
(Chorus)
Raylean, why ya gotta be so wicked.
Raylean, momma ya give me the blues.
Raylean, you can come on back home, if you got a mind to.
Raylean Marie Bonapart
I knew she was trouble right from the start.
A teenage mother with a taste for sin.
And I’d indulge her know and then.