You can tell the world
you never was¹ my girl,
you can burn² my clothes
up when I am gone.
You can tell your friends
just what a fool³ I've been,
and laugh and joke
about me on the phone

You can tell my arms:
Go back into the farm!
You can tell my feet
to hit the floor.
You can tell my lips
to tell my fingertips,
they won't be reaching⁴ out
for you no more.

But don't tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
I just don't think he'll understand.
But if you tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
he might⁵ blow up and kill⁶ this man.

You can tell your Ma,
I moved to Arkansas,
you can tell your dog
to bite⁷ my leg.
Or tell your brother Cliff,
whose fist⁸ can tell my lips,
he never really liked me anyway⁹.

Or tell your Aunt Louise,
tell anything you please,
myself already¹⁰ knows I'm not O.K.
Or you can tell my eyes
to watch out for my mind,
it might be walkin' out
on me one day.