I'm praying for rain in California,   So the grapes can grow,   And they can make more wine.      An I'm sitting in a honkey in Chicago,   With a broken heart,   And a woman on my mind.      I match the man,   Behind the bar,   For the jukebox;   And the music,    Takes me back,   To Tennessee;      When they ask...   "Who's the fool,   In the corner...   ...Crying?",   I say...   Little ole wine drinker me.      I came here last week from down in Nashville,   'Cause my baby left for   Flor'da on a train.      I tho't I'd get a job and just forget her,    But in Chicago, a broken heart,   Is still the same.