The wind blows Sunday papers at my feet As I walk down this cold and lonely street My hands searched through my pockets for a dime While the memory of you eats away my mind. And looking back I see that I was wrong But the road I'm on don't lead me back to home And I can't turn back 'cause everything is gone, yes, it's gone Right won't touch a hand that's filled with wrong. I was filled with so much jealousy And doubted all the love you had for me But now I see the kind of fool I've been And I'll never see the one I love again. Cause, looking back I see that I was wrong But the road I'm on don't lead me back to home And I can't turn back 'cause everything is gone, yes, it's gone Right won't touch a hand that; s filled with wrong. Right won't touch a hand that's filled with wrong...