| I don’t know what went wrong |
| I ain’t known you that long to begin with |
| Leave the rocks in the road, stay away from the river, Virginia |
| There’s not much you can do 'cept wait on a train |
| When the road gullies out in a Biblical rain |
| And that’s how it’s been ever since I can remember |
| I’m not too keen of mind |
| I don’t pick up on signs like I ought to |
| So I won’t sweat the cost of the coffee |
| Or the wine that I bought you |
| With your emptied out nest, your chicks have all flew |
| There’s nobody left to take care of but you |
| And you don’t know how to just be |
| No one ever taught you |
| And I can’t find much to say |
| As you play with that loose strand of hair |
| If you had you a tail you’d be twitching it |
| And I’v got to get over the scar |
| And tell you no |
| And tell you no |
| And tell you no |
| Tell you no |
| Never saw such a cold day in June did you ever, Virginia? |
| In our young days the old people called it 'Blackberry Winter' |
| As the mail plane goes out at a slow rate of climb |
| This cold rain don’t help with your low state of mind |
| Hanging down like the fog on the ridge |
| You can’t tell what’s in it |
| And you stare me down hard |
| And you ask me why I even care |
| It’s not that I’m any Sir Galahad |
| There just needs to be somebody there |
| To tell you no |
| To tell you no |
| To tell you no |
| To tell you no |
| Your bags are all packed, you’re not coming back that’s for certain |
| And the landlady won’t like the stains on the rugs and the curtains |
| Well, that’s just wear and tear such as happens in life |
| But folks around here live to gossip and gripe |
| So I won’t tell a soul |
| What they’ll never know’ll never hurt 'em |
| And I found the letter you left at the foot of the stairs |
| And I heard the horn blow, the train’s pulling out |
| I hope you find somebody there |
| To tell you no |
| To tell you no |
| To tell you no |
| To tell you no |
| Leave the rocks in the road, stay away from the river, Virginia |