Outta town girls, they all just want a chance to see the cityscape, lead a looser game with
All the town boys, they all just want a chance with 'em, I understand you can
Bet your bare bones, she'll be coming back for more
And what for? Should've called, should've wrote, leave a note for her before you close that door
For some closure, you know she told ya she loves the way you speak
To her in the margins of a postcard she keeps from you
Where are the marks of your failed arts? Have your daydreams been keeping you clean?
You never say what you need to make me believe you're the one that means it
I hope it aint you, I hope it aint you to let me down, don't fail me now I'm running thin
And I've just begun to wonder when you'll let me in, in, in, in, in
I've got Jesus in my eye, and the Devil in the corner making rye whiskey and gin
Don't you say that aint him, you should've seen him when he came in
He said: The Yankees played today, they played, but in the eighth the Sox, they clutched the game
At least the Mets are getting laid, yea, that's what they say
Bet your bare bones, everybody everywhere is coming to your party
Man I heard this was the place to be, not a lot that you can't get for free here
Where are the scars of your failed arts? Have your daydreams been keeping you clean?
(No!)
You never say what you need to make me believe you're the one that means it
I hope it aint you, I hope it aint you to let me down, don't fail me now I'm running thin
And I've just begun to wonder when you'll let me in, in, in, in, in
Writer(s): Samuel Melo
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