Lyrics Dear Abby - John Prine

About uh, about three months ago, I was in, uh
I was in Rome, Italy
I don't know what I was doing there
I was just there, uh
I got this sandwich one day
And they uh, gave me a newspaper with it
It was the only newspaper they had there
That was in English, and uh

They had all the news from all around the world
Just crammed into four pages
Didn't even have any funnies in there, you know
Every time you turned a page something
Just jumped right out at you, you know
So I found an old friend in there, and I wrote her a song
This is for, dear Abby

Dear Abby, dear Abby
My feet are too long
My hair's falling out and my rights are all wrong
My friends they all tell me that I've no friends at all
Won't you write me a letter, won't you give me a call?

Signed bewildered
Bewildered, bewildered
You have no complaint
You are what your are and you ain't what you ain't
So listen up buster, and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood

Dear Abby, dear Abby
My fountain pen leaks
My wife hollers at me and my kids are all freaks
Every side I get up on is the wrong side of bed
If it weren't so expensive I'd wish I were dead

Signed unhappy
Unhappy, unhappy
You have no complaint
You are what your are and you ain't what you ain't
So listen up buster, and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood

Dear Abby, dear Abby
You won't believe this
But my stomach makes noises whenever I kiss
My girlfriend tells me it's all in my head
But my stomach tells me to write you instead

Signed noise-maker
Noise-maker, noise-maker
You have no complaint
You are what your are and you ain't what you ain't
So listen up buster, and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood

Dear Abby, dear Abby
Well I never thought
That me and my girlfriend would ever get caught
We were sitting in the backseat just shooting the breeze
With her hair up in curlers and her pants to her knees

Signed just married
Just married, just married
You have no complaint
You are what your are and you ain't what you ain't
So listen up buster, and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood

Signed, dear Abby