He took my things and took my lighter
And built himself a big ol' fire
And watched our love go up in smoke
I hear he's out on the road, chasing a girl from the circus
Like we're just ashes, but what he don't know
He can burn my boots, he can burn my jeans
He can burn my rusty ol' six-string
He can burn my name just like a biscuit
Even them General Jackson tickets
He can burn our sheets and my reputation
Even my Farmers' Federation
Jacket, he can have it, but there ain't enough gasoline
To burn my memory
I swear, one night in the dark
He'll be lying in her arms
And a cold chill will creep up his spine
And then, like a ghost
That love we made in Mexico
Will haunt him and set him on fire
And he can burn my couch and my turquoise rings
He can burn my good California green
He can burn my lipstick-kissed love letters
Even my Waylon Jennings records
He can burn down all my favorite bars
And all them wishes we wished on stars
Screw it, he can do it, but there ain't enough gasoline
To burn my memory
But he could try
Yeah, he can light it up, baby, I don't care
'Cause we both know I ain't going anywhere
Yeah, he can burn my boots, he can burn my jeans
He can burn my rusty ol' six-string
He can burn my name just like a biscuit
Even them General Jackson tickets
He can burn our sheets and my reputation
Even my Farmers' Federation
Jacket, he can have it, but there ain't enough gasoline
It'd take more than all the whiskey from Kentucky down to Tennessee
To burn my memory, yeah
Ah, he can't burn my memory
But he can try
And he will
