Lyrics

I was sittin' here at Winfield, drinkin' beer and eatin' dogs
Thinkin', Boy I've got that bull right by the horns
When distinctly from the trailer, on the phone Old Liz was wailing:
"Gary, Hon, the car is making a funny noise." Chorus

"What... the... hell do you want me to do?
I'm a hundred miles away from there, and all you do is stew
I can't fix that thing from here, dear, call a neighbor, call a friend
What the hell do you want me to do?

Thinkin' maybe she had heard me,
It distressed me as she held the phone outside
"Gary," she replied, "honey can't you hear that whine?"
I said, "Yes, my dear, I think it's mostly you." Chorus

"You don't love me," she replied. "Sure I do," I said, [I lied]
"But my arms don't reach that far to fix your car"
She was sobbin' on the phone, beggin' me to come on home
And I sang these words to her from afar:

On the way back home from Winfield, out on Highway 35
My old pickup started steamin' from the hood
I called home to get assistance, But Old Liz said, "You're Long Distance!"
And what's when I heard her issue this reply:

What... the... hell do you want me to do?
I'm a hundred miles away from there, and all you do is stew
I can't fix that thing from here dear, call the auto club, call Steve
What the hell do you want me to do?
What the hell do you want me to do?