From a phone booth in Vegas, Jessie calls at 5 A.M.
to tell me how she's tired of all of them.
She says, "Baby, I been thinking 'bout a trailer by the sea.
We could go to Mexico... you, the cat and me.
We'll drink tequila and look for sea shells.
Now, doesn't that sound sweet?"
Oh, Jessie, you always do this, every time I get back on my feet.

Jessie,paint your pictures 'bout how it's gonna be.
By now I should know better, your dreams are never free.
But tell me all about our little trailer by the sea;
Jessie, you can always sell any dream to me.
Oh, Jessie, you can always sell any dream to me.

She asks me how the cat's been. I say, "Moses, he's just fine
but he used to think about you all the time.
We finally took your pictures down off the wall.
Oh, Jessie, how do you always seem to know just when to call?"

She says, "Get your stuff together. Bring Moses and drive real fast."
And I listen to her promise, "I swear to God this time it's gonna last."

Jessie, paint your pictures 'bout how it's gonna be.
By now I should know better, your dreams are never free.
But tell me all about our little trailer by the sea;
Jessie, you can always sell any dream to me.
Oh, Jessie, you can always sell any dream to me.

I'll love you in the sunshine, lay you down in the warm white sand.
And who knows, maybe this time things'll turn out just the way you planned.

Jessie paint your pictures 'bout how it's gonna be.
By now I should know better, your dreams are never free.
But tell me all about our little trailer by the sea;
Jessie you can always sell any dream to me.
Oh, Jessie, you can always sell any dream to me.

For years and years, my friend Jodi and I played the exact same game that this fellow and his Jessie played - promises made right when we needed to hear them, promises never kept, promises we knew wouldn't work. I'm still in touch with her, but that cycle is broken, thankfully, and has been for a couple of years now.