| In the first row apartment on the corner of Clark
|
| Smokin' hot redhead in the parkin' lot
|
| Shakin' that thing, showin' everything she’s got
|
| With a wink she said «We're drinkin' down at the dock»
|
| «So boy, you outta come»
|
| She said, «I know you’re taken, but what’s wrong with havin' fun?»
|
| So we get to the bar about a quarter to ten
|
| And the guitar’s screamin' and the band kicks in
|
| Sittin' in the corner nursin' tonic and gin
|
| Wearin' that dress, she’s sexy as sin
|
| Good Lord, I need a drink
|
| With a body like that, hell, it gets so hard to think
|
| When I’m sober, I pray to Jesus
|
| When I’m drunk, that’s when I talk to God
|
| Oh the Bible and the bottle both deceive us
|
| Into thinkin' we’re somethin' we’re not
|
| Into thinkin' we’re somethin' we’re not
|
| Well the drinks kept pourin' and so did my lies
|
| And I’m sure she could see through my bourbon disguise
|
| Hand kept crawlin' up my thigh
|
| She said «I don’t do this with most guys»
|
| Oh Lord, we all have a scene
|
| My heart was racin' like an engine and it’s dancin' like a Harlem queen
|
| Well the bar’s shuttin' down and it’s time to go
|
| Head to her place and turn the lights down low
|
| Headlights shoot through the front window
|
| She said «Quick! |
| Run! |
| Hide! |
| My boyfriend’s home!»
|
| Oh Lord, what have I done?
|
| I’m a-creepin' out the back and he’s stormin' through the front
|
| When I’m sober, I pray to Jesus
|
| When I’m drunk, that’s when I talk to God
|
| Oh the Bible and the bottle both deceive us
|
| Into thinkin' we’re somethin' we’re not
|
| Into thinkin' we’re somethin' we’re not |