You Were Always On My Mind – Half-Assed Excuses for Bad Behavior

With Apologies to Willie Nelson

1-28-26 – And yes, this one is a bit of a rant, and just in time for Valentine’s Day. You’re welcome, fellas. 🙂

Maybe I didn’t love you
Quite as often as I could have
Maybe I didn’t treat you
Quite as good as I should have
If I made you feel second best
Girl I’m sorry I was blind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
Maybe I didn’t hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
I’m so happy that you’re mine
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
Tell me
Tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died
And give me
Give me one more chance to keep you satisfied
I’ll keep you satisfied
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

I always knew that the famed love song my entire generation knows courtesy of Willie Nelson was written by a man, but I really thought that man was Willie Nelson. I was wrong. Turns out, guitarist/songwriter Wayne Carson had a couple of verses of the song already done when he found himself tied up on a project in Memphis that would keep him out of town even longer. When he called to tell his wife back in Missouri that he’d be delayed in coming home, she was, understandably, pissed off, but he tried to make things better by telling her that he’d been thinking about her all the time. Legend has it the light bulb went off, he rushed her off the phone, and started writing down the idea his half-assed excuse had sparked , but somehow couldn’t pull it together without help from fellow songwriters, Mark James, and Johnny Christopher.  

Surprisingly, even though the song was, in Carson’s own words, “One long apology. It’s sort of like all guys who screw up and would love nothing better than to pick up the phone and call their wives and say, ‘Listen, honey, I could have done better, but I want you to know that you were always on my mind,’” the song was first recorded by a woman, Brenda Lee, first released by Gwen McCrae, both in 1972. But it was when men, first Elvis Presley in 1972 and later the plaintive sound of Willie Nelson’s version ten years later that finally caught our attention and gave Willie the Grammy and the top spot on the Billboard Country Charts in and Carson the honors for CMA’s Song of the Year in 1982 and 1983. Also in 1982, The Nashville Songwriters Association International named it Song of the Year and the Academy of Country Music named it Single of the Year, so it’s safe to say that this ‘one long apology’ got Carson…and probably a lot of other schmucks a whole lot of mileage.

And while it’s a truly beautiful song, I can’t help but think about how Wayne Carson’s wife must have felt. Turns out, you have to do a little bit of looking to even find out the name of that sweet wife who inspired the song that, arguably, put Wayne Carson, on the map. For the record, that honor goes to Wyndi Harp Head, who must have had a lot more tolerance than many women because she not only accepted him rushing her off the phone on that fateful day but stayed with him until his passing in 2015, long after the song she inspired made him both famous and wealthy.

You’re probably thinking, “Oh, it’s not that bad a song. Give the guy a break. He’s trying to make up for screwing up, after all,” and I’ll give you that. It’s not a bad song at all. It’s beautiful, and you’re right that he is, indeed, trying to make up for screwing up with the woman he loves. But I’ve been listening to this song since 1982, when Willie made it explode into our consciousness, and there’s something about it that has been bothering me for lo, these 46 years in-between, and I hope you’ll give me a moment to share my thoughts as the woman who has heard some version of this song/excuse more than once or twice in my lifetime and is, frankly, not buying it.

Let’s just start from the beginning and see if you can put yourself in the shoes of the woman (or man) on the receiving end of this message. Please forgive me sounding like your therapist when I ask how it would make you feel if I said, “Maybe I didn’t love you quite as often as I could have, and maybe I didn’t treat you quite as good as I should have. If I made you feel second best, I’m so sorry I was blind.” But it’s okay because,“You were always on my mind.”

Answer honestly. Would you feel special if I told you that I could have loved you and treated you better, and I could have tried harder, but I didn’t, and you should let that go because, well, I was thinking about you even if I wasn’t loving you or treating you well? Before you answer, remember that your answer is pretty clearly tied to your self-esteem, whether you want to admit it to the world, to yourself, or not.

Still not sure how you feel about it? I mean, it’s just a song, right? Okay, well then, let’s go a little farther into it, shall we? Maybe I didn’t hold youall those lonely, lonely times, and I guess I never told you I’m so happy that you’re mine. Little things I should have said and done, I just never took the time.”

But it’s okay because,“You were always on my mind.” So, it’s okay if the person with whom you’ve chosen to share your life lets you know that they are aware they’ve been remiss in letting you know that you’re important to them. And sure, they’ve kind of fallen asleep at the wheel when it came time to being there for you, even though you were right there for them whenever they needed you. And, of course, they never got around to telling you how important you are to them or how much you matter and how grateful they are to have you in their life because, well, you know, there were video games to play, and friends to hang out with, and social media posts to keep up with, and you know, all that other stuff that took priority over you. But it’s okay because, you know…“You were always on my mind.”

Please forgive me for coming across like a bitch here, but I don’t care how beautiful the melody is or how plaintive and sad Willie Nelson’s voice is when he sings it, I call Bullshit! Sure, I understand that we can all get lost once in a while and forget our priorities, but this is some seriously epic messed-up selfishness that really borders on spousal abuse, isn’t it? I get that no relationship is perfect – ever – even the ones we try to make look that way on our social media feeds, but when someone tells you that they know they ‘guess they’ve never told you’ they’re happy you’re in their lives, maybe you should be downloading the Tinder or Match.com apps on your smartphone because this partner is definitely ‘just not that into you.’

And if you want to ice this particular cake, let’s go to the ‘bridge’ of the song, the part where a song usually changes keys and ramps up the emotion a bit in its ‘call to action,’ if you will. In this particular number, the words go like this: “Tell me, Tell me that your sweet love hasn’t died. Give me, Give me one more chance to keep you satisfied. I’ll keep you satisfied.” Then there is a short reprise, just to remind the poor neglected partner one more time of how unimportant s/he really, truly is, and how unlikely a genuine change is going to be. “Little things I should have said and done, I just never took the time. But you were always on my mind, you were always on my mind.”

I’m not sure why or how any of this swayed Wayne Carson’s lovely wife, but clearly, she is made of stronger and more forgiving stuff than I. Blessedly, only twice in my lifetime have I been exposed to someone trying to use this particular song to convince me that all past transgressions should be instantly forgiven and all future transgressions will be just as easily wiped away with another dedication of the song in a few weeks/months/choose the appropriate time when it looks like she’s packing her bags. Each time, I could actually feel a little bit of a tug on my heart, as if maybe, just maybe the words meant as much as they should mean and carry the weight they should carry. But there is something about them that just raises all the red flags for me, and probably for every woman on whom it has ever been used.

Why would you wait until your entire world was walking out the door before you put the smallest effort into keeping it from leaving? What could possibly be so difficult about letting someone know their importance and value in your life before the moment when they’re little more than a speck at the edge of the horizon, vanishing into the sunset? If you love someone enough to write a song this beautiful for them when they are getting ready to walk out the door, why would you wait until then to let them know how much you care? Is it pride? Vanity? Fear? Arrogance? And whatever it is, why would any woman want to take that half-assed apology and excuse as a genuine commitment of your love and desire to become the kind of man a woman as wonderful as she is deserves in her life? Guys, I know you’re looking for an easy way to make everything okay again, but dedicating this song to your beloved lady is not it. Neither is writing it out in her Valentine’s card or singing it to her at Tuesday night Karaoke. ‘

If you want her to know that you love her and that you’ve fucked up by being less than the man you can be to deserve a woman as terrific as her, there are lots of ways to prove your case that don’t involve “You Were Always On My Mind,” and the good news is that there are no ASCAP rites or royalties involved in any of them. Start by making time to be there with her and for her, and then take every line of this song, and do the exact opposite. “Love her” as often as you can, “Treat her” as good as you should…or better. Don’t make her feel “second best,” even if you are blind. If you think she’s the best, for God’s sake, treat her that way, and I promise you, you will always be on her mind, too, and her sweet love never will die because you’ll be worth loving, not just worth remembering as that schmo who wrote pretty songs and came up with half-assed excuses for being a selfish and lazy lover.

P.S. I was going to end this with a tip that if you wanted a really good, albeit too-late apology song for taking someone for granted, look no further than David Gates’ 1972 Everything I Own which has the lines,

Is there someone you know, you’re loving them so, but taking them all for granted? You may lose them one day. Someone takes them away. And they don’t hear the words you long to say.”

But I just looked that up to double-check the date, and I learned that “although often mistaken for a breakup song, it was written in memory of Gates’ father, with lyrics reflecting gratitude for his influence and support.” Still works way better than Always on My Mind.