(Kent Westberry)

The cup on the table was the last to feel your lips
The telephone was the last thing to touch your fingertips
But I was the last one that your arms held so close
Of all the things you left here it's me that hurts the most.

--- Instrumental ---

The curtains in the window were the last to wave goodbye
The old clock on the mental it knows it's time to cry
The walls echo your footsteps in the night just like a ghost
Of all the things you left here it's me that hurts the most.

--- Instrumental ---

The mirror in the parlor had the last look in your eyes
The flowers were last to wether up and die
But I'm still the last one that your arms held so close
Of all the things you left here it's me that hurts the most...