Waylon Jennings
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They said in her younger days, her beauty was enough to drive men wild
But the hunger in her body then was not the hunger of some lonely child
Like a butterfly in springtime, searching every field for loving's sweetest rose
The embrace of many strangers still could not release her from the hold.

In the backstreets and the bedrooms, all she's found is disappointment's bitter weed
While the love that she's too often found was enough to satisfy her needs
She's older than the years she holds, and aging fast with each day passing by
On a downhill run to nowhere, 'cause the hunger never can be satisfied.

The reflection in her mirror's not the image she remembers in her mind
Her beauty has been eaten by the hunger and the acid winds of time
She has danced the tune her demons played and paid the piper dearly for his song
Empty now of all her pride, but still inside the hunger's just as strong.

They said in her younger days, her beauty was enough to drive men wild
But the hunger in her body then was not the hunger of some lonely child
Like a butterfly in springtime, searching every field for loving's sweetest rose
The embrace of many strangers still could not release her from the hold.


Mirror lyrics:

The embrace of many strangers still could not release her from the hold.
Like a butterfly in springtime, searching every field for loving's sweetest rose
But the hunger in her body then was not the hunger of some lonely child
They said in her younger days, her beauty was enough to drive men wild

Empty now of all her pride, but still inside the hunger's just as strong.
She has danced the tune her demons played and paid the piper dearly for his song
Her beauty has been eaten by the hunger and the acid winds of time
The reflection in her mirror's not the image she remembers in her mind

On a downhill run to nowhere, 'cause the hunger never can be satisfied.
She's older than the years she holds, and aging fast with each day passing by
While the love that she's too often found was enough to satisfy her needs
In the backstreets and the bedrooms, all she's found is disappointment's bitter weed

The embrace of many strangers still could not release her from the hold.
Like a butterfly in springtime, searching every field for loving's sweetest rose
But the hunger in her body then was not the hunger of some lonely child
They said in her younger days, her beauty was enough to drive men wild


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