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©1998 Sally Fingerett, Green Fingers Music, BMI

A lovely party sitting poolside in the sunshine         
Bright umbrellas, island fare
Pretty people posing glowing
Underneath sun tans and windswept hair
Comes the hour when it’s time to mix and mingle     
Ice cubes jingling everywhere
They toast the hostess
Grateful for the good times, as if they cared
Lonely, though she’s not alone          
She’d like for them to go home
No one can imagine the
Drought down in her soul            
How could they know – she’s a . . .

A thirsty woman, a thirsty woman           
A thirsty woman with an empty glass
Holding alone

After twenty years she looks at him and wonders       
Why didn’t she just up and go
Why did she stay - what kept her roaming
Through this dessert, they call a home
They let their love dry up and wither it’s no secret     
But how it happens, no one knows
Parched and brittle, it crumbled into ashes
That’s how it goes
Lonely, though she’s not alone            
Weary, heart like a stone
Wanting, desperate and craving, from the fire down below
He’s asleep, he never knows she’s


Her glass is barren, no one’s caring, she’s got an ache
Where it’s deep down and empty she’s so thirsty
What will it take?
Oh, lonely, she’s so alone                     
Somebody hold her, don’t let her go
Show her that there’s an oasis waiting in her soul
She needs to know, that poor . . . thirsty woman

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