I miss the whip, I miss the ball and chain
I miss checking in at least 30 times a day
I miss your whining and I miss your moan
I miss always wishing that you were gone
So, baby, please come home

I miss wet shoulders, and I miss you crying
I miss you in the morning after too much wine
I miss you sober and I miss you stoned
I miss always wishing that you were gone
So, baby, please come home

I sit at this bar and drink like I’m married
I’m falling so far with too much to be carried
I can barely crawl, like I got some fever
But no pain at all, except in my liver
And even that might start to subside
If I could drown you out of my mind
Then I’d pretend that I’m still alive
I miss the fighting for hours on the phone
I miss always wishing that you were gone
So, baby, please come home