He remembers the night like it was yesterday
No, I wasn’t there but I heard him say,
That it was real and it was [bad word] Now when I close my eyes I can be there, too

Red flowers swaying on the white curtains,
Blowing in the kitchen window
New Orleans in the summertime,
Etta James singing on the radio
Slow dancing on a checkerboard floor
Built from memories of long ago
And there when I close my eyes

I remember my mother lying on my bed
Holding me close, she always said
That it was real and it was [bad word] Now when I close my eyes I can be there, too

Red flowers swaying on the white curtains,
Blowing in the kitchen window
New Orleans in the summertime,
Etta James singing on the radio
Slow dancing on a checkerboard floor
Built from memories of long ago
And there when I close my eyes

And if I’m only dreaming
If he just wants me to leave him
If all of it’s real
Well, that won’t change how I feel
Cause I know that your [bad word] is a choice
And I know, I know, I can tell from his voice
I can roar, I can fight
Still, I’ll always be haunted by

Red flowers swaying on the white curtains,
Blowing in the kitchen window
New Orleans in the summertime,
Etta James singing on the radio
Slow dancing on a checkerboard floor
Built from memories of long ago
And there when I close my eyes

Someday
When I close my eyes