I walk up to my door and hate to turn the key
Emptiness is all that waits inside for me
That’s how it is when the one you love is gone
That’s how it is when your house is not a home
I look around and see things marked with his and hers
Things like these just make things that much worse
That’s how it is since I live my life alone
That’s how it is since my house is not a home
Is there a way up for soul so torn as mine
Each day I live I’m like a prisoner passin' time
That’s how it is ask anyone who lives alone
That’s how it is when your house is not a home
Love her to this day. I've often wondered what she could have accomplished had she lived. Her voice spoke to our souls and her songs to our lives. Thanks Patsy
Another "mill of the run" song, but when Patsy got hold of these they got legs and life to the max, and the song became hers. She's one lady I haved had a hard time doing without, bet she would still be belting them out had she lived.
What a quiet dignity she brought to every tune she ever recorded, and, as this was "live," her flawless performance is completely organic, with no studio assistance whatsoever.
This is also a textbook example of letting the content of the song do the work:
No histrionics here, they aren't necessary when your voice and your musicianship are this good.
Sure wish Patsy had been in the studio much more than she was. there was an entire cataloge of beautiful songs she could've recorded at that time. Miss Country Music when it sounded like this.