It was June or September I don't rightly remember The first time I laid eyes on you It was June or September Seattle or Denver The first time I laid eyes on you You wore black silver stockings with a seam down the back Your dress was split to your thighs And your hair was a place for a dozen red roses After it smothered your side And you dealt in the card games in smokey saloons Haunted you saw the sun rise But as soon as I'd leave you I looked to your photograph Teardrops would swell in your eyes There were three tiny daughters that lived with your mother You only wanted their best But you could not give them the things that you wanted to You only wanted their best It was June or September I don't rightly remember The first time I laid eyes on you It was June or September Seattle or Denver The first time I laid eyes on you