47 push ups
in a winter-rate
sea side motel
I feel like Travis
It's not going to be a hit
So why even bother
I just dropped by to see you as I'm on
bloody rag and a broken string of pearls
on your bathroom
Every girl I've ever loved
Has wanted to be hit
Every girl
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on with
Butterflies drowned in wine
I'm headed into town
Where up is up
Well, you're a wild horse
On a collision course
With the sun
I
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
Cold-blooded old times
The type o
I hate men with connections
I hate your connections
I said I
And so I dance in dirty pants
A drink in my
Dress sexy at my funeral my good wife
Dress sexy at
And the rain washed the price
Off of our windshield
Have I said too much
Am I losing my touch
I
You spend half of the morning
Just trying to wake up
Half
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