Monday, January 24, 2011

love to see you happy

just wait for the weekend

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You and your museum of lovers
The precious collection you've housed in your covers
My simpleness threatened by my own admission

And the bags are much too heavy
In my insecure condition
My pregnant mind is fat full with envy again

Wanted and adored by attractive women
Bountiful selection at your descretion
I know I'm diving into my own destruction

So why do we choose the boys that are naughty?
I don't fit in so why do you want me?
I know I can't tame you. But I just keep trying

Cause I love to wash in your old bathwater
Love to think that you couldn't love another
I'm on your list with all your other women
But I still love to wash in your old bathwater
You make me feel like I couldn't love another
I can't help it. You're my kind of man

Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?

So I pacify problems with kisses and cuddles
Dilligently doubtful through all kinds of trouble
Then I find myself choking on all my contradictions

No I can't help myself
I still love to wash in your old bathwater

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