Margie's at the Lincoln Park Inn

(Tom T. Hall)



My name's in the paper where

I took the boy scouts to hike

My hands're all dirty from

Working on my little boy's bike.



The preacher came by and

I talked for a minute with him

My wife's in the kitchen and

Margie's at the Lincoln Park Inn .



And I know why she's there

I've been there before

But I made her a promise

That I wouldn't cheat anymore.



I tried to ignore it but I know

She's in there my friend

My mind's on a number and

Margie's at the Lincoln Park Inn.



Next Sunday it's my turn to speak

To the young people's class

And they expect answers to

All of the questions they ask

What would they say if

I spoke on a modern day sin

And all of the Margies

At all of the Lincoln Park Inns.



The bike is all fixed and

My little boy's in bed asleep

His little old puppy is

Curled in a ball at my feet.



My wife's baking cookies to

Serve to the Bridge Club again

And I'm almost out of cigarettes

Margie's at the Lincoln Park Inn.



I'm almost out of cigarettes

And Margie's at the Lincoln Park Inn...