| Oh, the last I heard from Shirley
|
| She was married to some guy
|
| Living south of Kansas City
|
| Too bad I was so shy
|
| And the last I heard of Linda
|
| She was looking much the same
|
| She was married to some guy
|
| Too bad I couldn’t take the blame
|
| Couldn’t take the blame
|
| And Linda was the name of my sorrow
|
| And Shirley was, too
|
| And now it’s you
|
| And the last I heard from Mary Lou
|
| She still hadn’t learned to sing
|
| She was married to some guy
|
| Too bad I didn’t buy a ring
|
| And the last I heard of Janie
|
| Everybody knew her name
|
| Miss something or the other
|
| Too bad I never had no fame
|
| I never had no fame
|
| Janie was the name of my sorrow
|
| Mary Lou was, too
|
| And now it’s you
|
| And the last I heard of Marianne
|
| She still hadn’t changed a bit
|
| She had everything there in it’s place
|
| Too bad I didn’t fit
|
| And the last I heard of Susie
|
| She still nursed a fickle flame
|
| And waited in her patient way
|
| Too bad I never came
|
| Too bad I never came
|
| For Susan was the name of my sorrow
|
| And Marianne was, too
|
| And now it’s you |