January
Friday 2 September 2011 photo 7/18
|
The clock has ticked eleven and the place is clear
Reality is kicking in and so is my beer
I don't make excuses when it's all my fault
If a heart is made of money he's cleaned out my vault
I feel a little wounded and it isn't fair
To sit inside a parlour and see him standing over there
As smug as a robber that a cop can't catch
The lipstick on his collar doesn't seem to match mine
(Mine, doesn't seem to match mine, mine)
Now Joe behind the bar is offering advice
Cause I'm a broken record and he has to tell me twice
Why don't I understand that he just can't change
I wanna be his woman not his weekend dame
Now Joe has eyes a'rollin' says it's just too bad
And he'll be back tomorrow for my heartbeat crash
I'd like to say goodbye, but hello is the match
Though the lipstick on his collar never seems to match mine
(Never seem to match, mine ooh, never seem to match)
This line is disconnected
Annons
Visa toppen
Show footer