You were crying in your pretzels when I met you.
You were washing all the salt away from the dough.
You were crying in your pretzels and I’ll never forget you.
But, baby, just why, I’ll never know.
Crying in your pretzels, crying in your beer.
Crying on the table, that’s where I found you, dear.
Yes, my sweet, I came into that bar,
it was in Mississippi, there you were,
sitting in a corner, crying in your pretzels.
You’d already sogged up a whole plate of potato chips,
but the management didn’t mind, because you were a regular customer.
And I saw you sitting there and I said,
“That person needs a friend, and I’m gonna be a friend.
Ain’t nobody deserves to cry in his pretzels all night,
and wash away the salt.”
So I kinda sidled up to you and I said,
“What can I do for ya? How can I help ya?
What can I do to ease the pain?”
Well, you were crying in your pretzels,
Oh, you were crying in your beer,
Yes, that was the night I met you
And I’ll always hold you near.