| I’ve been all wound up, twisted and tied
|
| Tangled in a mess since I met your eyes
|
| But the more we pull apart the harder we collide
|
| When we come back around
|
| It’s a good burn, a sweet sting
|
| Strung up tight like a guitar string
|
| I don’t know quite what to call this thing
|
| But it’s kinda like the sound of a
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Stretch it out as far as we can
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Snap back together again hey
|
| When you knock on my door looking like that
|
| With your cinnamon skin and your hair pulled back
|
| Can’t fight the urge, fight the fact
|
| Baby won’t you come on in
|
| And we’ll spend the night, get all wild
|
| Let loose for a little while
|
| When you leave in the morning with a wink and a smile
|
| It tightens up again
|
| Oh here we go again yeah, yeah
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Stretch it out as far as we can
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Snap back together again
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Bound to get a little outta hand
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Snap back, snap back, snap back now
|
| Yeah rubberband, rubberband
|
| Stretch it out as far as we can
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Snap back together again
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Bound to get a little outta hand
|
| Rubberband, rubberband
|
| Snap back, snap back, snap back now |