Deny, Deny, Deny

That wasn't me at a quarter to three, back in our backyard
 Tearing up the roses and the home grown tomatoes in my new car
 Those bottles in the driveway and the bottles in the hall
 Well I don't know where they came from
 It must be burglars in the neighborhood
 I sure hope they catch those bums
 I know you've got your own version of the truth
 There's only three things left now that I can do
 Deny, deny, deny
 
 Well I was allegedly dropped
 By a truck stop waitress at our front door
 Now who you gonna believe
 Your sweet lovin' daddy or those lying eyes of yours
 That lipstick on my collar
 That you found this morning well that's not lipstick at all
 I was just in a hurry to get back to you honey
 Had myself a little fall
 Oh yeah you've got your own version of the truth
 There's only three things left now that I can do
 Deny, deny, deny
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 Oh please don't answer the phone
 Hey ain't it great being home and alone like this
 That cigarette voice asking for her big boy
 Why should I know who that is
 Yeah I know it looks bad but
 You're lookin' at a victim of a circumstance or two
 Oh what is it now seems like nothing I do ever pleases you
 I know you've got your own version of the truth
 There's only three things left now that I can do
 Deny, deny, deny
 Deny, deny, deny