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