right won't touch a hand

George Jones

The wind blows Sunday papers by my feet
As I walk down this cold and lonely street
My hands searched through my pockets for a dime
While the memory of you eats away my mind

Looking back I see that I was wrong
But the road Iââ?¬â?¢m on donââ?¬â?¢t lead me back to home
And I canââ?¬â?¢t turn back ââ?¬Ë?cause everything is gone
Yes itââ?¬â?¢s gone
And right wonââ?¬â?¢t touch a hand thatââ?¬â?¢s filled with wrong

I was filled with so much jealousy
And doubted all the love you had for me
But now I see the kind of fool Iââ?¬â?¢ve been
Iââ?¬â?¢ll never see the one I love again

Looking back I see that I was wrong
But the road Iââ?¬â?¢m on donââ?¬â?¢t lead me back to home
And I canââ?¬â?¢t turn back ââ?¬Ë?cause everything is gone
Yes itââ?¬â?¢s gone
And right wonââ?¬â?¢t touch a hand thatââ?¬â?¢s filled with wrong
Right wonââ?¬â?¢t touch a hand thatââ?¬â?¢s filled with wrong