42 lines
1.8 KiB
Plaintext
42 lines
1.8 KiB
Plaintext
I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car,
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He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel,
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The other on my heart,
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I look around, turn the radio down, he says, "baby is something wrong?"
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I say "nothing, I was just thinking how we don't have a song, "
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And he says,
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Our song is a slamming screen door,
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Sneaking out late tapping on your window,
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When we're on the phone and you talk real slow,
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'Cause it's late and your mama don't know,
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Our song is the way you laugh,
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The first date man I didn't kiss her when I should have,
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And when I got home, before I said amen,
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Asking God if He could play it again.
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I was walking up the front porch steps after everything that day,
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Had gone all wrong, had been trampled on and lost and thrown away,
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Got to the hallway well on my way to my lovin' bed,
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I almost didn't notice all the roses,
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And the note that said,
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Our song is a slamming screen door,
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Sneaking out late tapping on your window,
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When we're on the phone and you talk real slow,
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'Cause it's late and your mama don't know,
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Our song is the way you laugh,
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The first date man I didn't kiss her when I should have,
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And when I got home, before I said amen,
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Asking God if He could play it again.
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I've heard every album, listened to the radio,
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Waiting for something to come along,
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That was as good as our song,
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'Cause our song is a slamming screen door,
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Sneaking out late tapping on your window,
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When we're on the phone, and he talks real slow,
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'Cause it's late and his mama don't know,
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Our song is the way he laughs,
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The first date man I didn't kiss him when I should have,
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And when I got home, before I said amen,
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Asking God if He could play it again.
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I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car,
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I grabbed a pen and an old napkin
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And I wrote down our song.
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