| She says, «Look, baby, I’m a rock star»
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| Grabs my old guitar
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| Playing it upside down
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| Dancing 'round in front of our TV
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| I can’t see the ballgame
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| So I just wave my lighter around and say
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| «Yeah, rock on, baby
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| I’d rather watch you anyway»
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| «But when you’re done can I come backstage
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| And get you to sign your name
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| On that Zeppelin shirt of mine you’re wearing?
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| I’ll never wash that thing again»
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| Yeah, and she’s my kind of crazy
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| The little games she plays
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| Lord, they never get old
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| She’s too cute to get on my last nerve
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| The way she throws her little fits
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| Poking out her lip, biting mine when we kiss
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| There ain’t a fight that she can’t win
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| That’s my baby and she’s my kind of crazy
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| You ought to see her in my pickup
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| Oh, she’s gotta have that radio up Bless her heart, she can’t sit still
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| Head in my lap, bare feet on the windshield
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| Says, «Come on, baby, let me drive»
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| Now honey, it’s a stick shift
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| Remember what you did last time, oh Yeah, and she’s my kind of crazy
|
| The little games she plays
|
| Lord, they never get old
|
| She’s too cute to get on my last nerve
|
| The way she throws her little fits
|
| Poking out her lip, biting mine when we kiss
|
| There ain’t a fight that she can’t win
|
| That’s my baby and she’s my kind of crazy
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| She never lets me rest, she keeps me up all night
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| Known to roll me off the bed, steal the covers off my side
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| But I hear her wake up, sleepy head
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| And I open up my eyes and it’s all worth the while
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| Yeah, and she’s my kind of crazy
|
| The little games she plays
|
| Lord, they never get old
|
| She’s too cute to get on my last nerve
|
| The way she throws her little fits
|
| Poking out her lip, biting mine when we kiss
|
| There ain’t a fight that she can’t win
|
| That’s my baby and she’s my kind of crazy |