Text: James Taylor. (I've Got To) Stop Thinkin' 'bout That.

I like to think about the time I met you, living with your people down in New Orleans.
Mad at your mama cause she'd never let you ride in no nasty limousine.
Later on the levee with the moon up above, I lost my heart and confessed my love,
Oh Lucy, now, God have mercy, I've got to stop thinkin' 'bout that, somehow.
Does me no damn good.

One Summer night in a field of wheat, God's sweet lanterns hanging in the sky.
Moving light on your tiny feet, I knew I had to love you till the day I die.
They talk about Amazing Grace, it meant something when I saw your face.
Oh Lucy, now, God have mercy, I've got to stop thinkin' 'bout that.
Oh, Lucy, babe, can't stop thinkin' bout you.

I think of all the little things that I never told you, I think I may get to hold you someday.
It's my brain just like a man possessed, I can't do me no work, I can't get me no rest,
I can't understand it baby.

Don't like to think about the way it ended, I hate remembering the things that I said.
I dream a dream of love so splendid, I wake up hard in an empty bed.
I wonder who'll be loving you next, some fool will be writing bad checks.
Oh, Lucy, God have mercy, I've got to stop thinkin' 'bout you.