Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
Juliana Hatfield
In the corner of the bar there stands a jukebox
With the best of country music, old and new
You can hear your five selections for a quarter
And somebody else's songs when yours are through
I got good Kentucky whiskey on the counter
And my friends around to help me ease the pain
Till some button-pushing cowboy plays that love song
And here I am just missing you again
Please, Mr., please, don't play B-17
It was our song, it was his song, but it's over
Please, Mr., please, if you know what I mean
I don't ever wanna hear that song again
If I had a dime for every time I held you
Though you're far away, you've been so close to me
I could swear I'd be the richest girl in Nashville
Maybe even in the state of Tennessee
But I guess I'd better get myself together
'Cause when you left, you didn't leave too much behind
Just a note that said "I'm sorry" by your picture
And a song that's weighing heavy on my mind
Please, Mr., please, don't play B-17
It was our song, it was his song, but it's over
Please, Mr., please, if you know what I mean
I don't ever wanna hear that song again