#69 THE ACHE THAT DON’T END
#69 THE ACHE THAT DON'T END
(Memphis Soul)
"It's not love mister, it's an ache that don't end."
Late night in my bar, old man takes a slow sip.
I keep drying glasses, he shakes his head,
"You're livin', walkin' a straight line, then you trip."
He taps his glass rim, nods for a top-up,
Asks me if with the ladies, I have a type.
Doesn't wait for my answer, says "She was mine."
"And not a stranger, my kid brother's wife."
You can run, you can hide,
You can front, you can pretend.
But once it finds you, it has you,
The ache that don’t end.
"She was older than him, closer to me."
Tight smile, says "You promise yourself you won't."
Sighs, a slow look around the bar, few more sips,
Then he says "Some aches grab you by the throat."
"One day I looked at her, she looked right back."
Slumps down, chin on forearms "We just couldn't stop."
Raises up, drains his glass and continues,
"One night he comes back a bit too soon from the shop."
You can beg, you can plead,
You can fake it, you can pretend.
But once it has you, it keeps you,
The ache that don’t end.
Old man says "I should stop." I shake my head no,
He shrugs "Well, you know how it goes..."
"He didn't yell... He just..." Old man slams down his fist.
"My kid brother looked at me, said 'You will not be missed.'"
Old man hung his head, says "Then he drove away slow."
"Where he is, how he's doing -- I'll never know."
Drains his drink, hands me some cash, then he says:
"Ask myself every damned day why'd I begin it,"
Stands to leave -- leans over, whispers in my ear:
"I'd do her again in a red hot minute."
You can struggle, you can swear,
But you don't front or pretend
Now that it has you, it owns you,
That ache that don’t end.
You can struggle, you can swear,
But you don't front or pretend
Now that it has you, it owns you,
That ache that don’t end.
That ache that don’t end.