Georgia Georgia

Georgia, Georgia, it's many many miles since I've seen your fallen smile close up and personal,
Your arsenal of excuses you never told her when you walked out on the Savannah shoulder
With your veins all full of beer, thinking, "Well, at least now everything is clear."
But oh man what a plan-suicide-
It's just not that much different from my own affair-all ends in cussing and crying.

How about if you tell me something new?
Tell me what will make you happy-oh, you so deserve to be.

There were protests and contests and attitudes to cop-I want it all to stop.
Three weeks ago you were all grace and charm, and now I know it was just a false alarm.

Georgia, Georgia, I can't understand you since-you have no forgiveness, no attention left to pay.
The quiet way you leave and just forget it all just takes my breath away.
How's that supposed to make me feel? Yeah, well, how am I supposed to feel?