Apple Butter

The last hurrah has turned a long affair
No petals on the bed, just lipstick and underwear
When they're finished (When they're finished)
When they're done
When he walks out of the door
On his black jacket is her blonde hair
And her Chanel perfume, as well
But by this point in the night he's gotten used to the smell
So he can't tell
It was twenty-one past twelve
But he wasn't in a rush the radio played "Along The Santa Fe Trail"

Along Riverside Drive, where the saxophone's playing
She could hear him on the waterside
The poor wife lays in bed
In the other room a baby cries
And she would like to as well, but her mother said it wasn't ladylike
And her father did the crime and paid the price
In the same business that his daughter's husband gave his life
And his philosophy was sin all day and pray all night
And she can't win the game, although she tries to play it right
You torch the field and watch the AstroTurf ignite
Lifeless in the morning, 'cause it keeps her up in fright
Cites Emily Post when he's acting impolite
Makes him wonder why he made her his wife

Oh, the little things he brushed off were bigger than he thought
She's home all day and detects every spot, ah
Slight smell of perfume on his jacket pocket
And he only walked in with one sock

Wakes up, and doesn't see her in the bed
No baby in the crib, not a note to be read
Car keys were missing from the table by the door
Now these were signs he wasn't able to ignore
Ten bands missing from the shoebox in the shed
A broken headlamp on the floor is getting to his head
She wasn't won over by the money she was fed
He gave her things she couldn't even confess (Who popped the check?)
Who could it be?
Who could it have been?
Did she find out?
Or was she taken? (Did she find out or was she taken?)
Along with baby and the money
She heard him going, he saw it coming