si igned be wildered
si igned un happy
si igned just married

Dear Abby
[1993:] I was in Europe, and my first wife and I stopped in Rome for the day. I wanted a newspaper, and all they had was the International Herald Tribune, which is all the tragic news in the world crammed into six pages with no sports results and no comics. And yet here's 'Dear Abby'. She was the only relief in the whole paper. And that's where I wrote most of the song - in Rome, Italy, that is. Years later, somebody took the verse about the guy whose stomach makes noises, wrote it just out of kilter enough so it didn't rhyme, and sent it to "Dear Abby." And she answered it in her column. She suggested that he seek professional help. She got loads of letters from people who knew the song and told her she'd been had. (Notes 'Great Days - The John Prine Anthology')
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For then I more closely resemble the half a man that you've made of me
Willie Nelson w/ Merle Haggard
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and it was Johnny Cash's so lonesome..