| G | C | |
| Yes, I know she's the life of the pa | rty |
| G | D | |
| And without her, things here woul | d die |
| G | C | |
| Oh, but don't be fooled by her lau | ghter |
| G | D | G | D | |
| She has her sad times, | she knows how t | o cr | y |
| Bridge |
| C | |
| She drinks, and she talks |
| G | |
| Just a little too loud |
| A7 | |
| And with her pride gone, she tags along |
| D | |
| With any old crowd |
| Chorus |
| G | |
| Yes, I know I'm to blame |
| C | |
| And I feel so ashamed |
| G | D | G | D | |
| That I made her the | image of | me |
| 2nd verse |
| G | C | |
| I met her in a little country t | own |
| G | D | |
| She was simple and old-fashioned in | some ways |
| G | C | |
| But she loved me till I dragged | her down |
| G | D | G | D | |
| Then she just gave | up and drifted aw | ay |
| Bridge |
| Chorus |