So sweet I can hardly speak   Due to such trauma in my teeth   But your body language is telling me that you're worth the pain   So weak I can hardly keep   Shaky legs holding up my feet   But your body language is telling me that I'm not to blame      Practice makes perfect   Practice makes perfect sense   I've become what a mother wouldn't want in a son   I have done a few things I regret   But practice makes perfect   Practice makes perfect sense to me      Wake up at first light hearing you calling out   For your criminal clothing that fled the scene   Upon being ripped free   Conversation ensued   And I want to do so many things to you   Sip after sip, you insist you're a hit   Sip after sip, yeah I swear I can feel it       Practice makes perfect   Practice makes perfect sense   I've become what a mother wouldn't want in a son   I have done a few things I regret   I've become what a mother wouldn't want in a son   I have done what a mother wouldn't want what a mother wouldn't want in a son      But practice makes perfect   Practice makes perfect sense   Practice makes perfect   Practice makes perfect sense   I've become what a mother wouldn't want in a son   I have done a few things I regret   I've become what a mother wouldn't want in a son   I have done what a mother wouldn't want what a mother wouldn't want in a son      Practice makes perfect   Practice makes perfect sense   Practice makes perfect   Practice makes perfect sense to me