Lee Anne
(By Eric Erdman and Tim Jackson)

Her private tutor only taught her the fine art of faking
Four languages fluent but nothing worth saying 
Put on the airs to match the dress
Tight rope for the family crest

She’s from old money, a trust fund baby
Don’t trust nobody, ain’t got nobody
There’s a Christmas wreath on her door 
I don’t know who it’s for
Sit’s alone on her front porch with her radio playing

Songs about love that she’s never felt
Wishes she could sing along
The lines remind her that she’s only ever been held
Like a crown holds a stone
Poor poor Lee Anne

At a first glance what she has seems gorgeous
And if you’re looking at the price tag you can’t afford it
But she’s learning that money don’t fill that hole
That cold hard cash cant warm a soul
Sit’s alone on her front porch with her radio playing

Songs about love that she’s never felt
Wishes she could sing along
The lines remind her that she’s only ever been held
Like a crown holds a stone
Poor poor Lee Anne