| Whatever we got goin' on between us here, I don’t hate it
|
| The way we’re lookin' at each other, there’s no takin' it back
|
| Just had to say that
|
| It’s like we got the perfect Saturday night situated
|
| Let’s burn the weight of the worry away without strikin' a match
|
| It feels like we’ve got
|
| Diamonds in our pockets
|
| Radio playing Rocket Man
|
| You spinnin', headlight dancin'
|
| Act like you don’t give a damn
|
| That the paint on my Pontiac’s faded
|
| That’s got me thinkin' baby maybe we’ll make it
|
| Till the stars die and time spreads its wings and flies
|
| And the world ain’t yours and mine like it is tonight
|
| We ain’t ever gonna run down a dream unless we chase it
|
| And there’s nobody I would rather be runnin' it down with than you
|
| Sittin' under this moon
|
| Whiskey in a thermos up under the seat
|
| Pass a cigarette while this little town sleeps
|
| No matter how long this lasts between me and you
|
| It’ll end too soon 'cause
|
| It feels like we’ve got
|
| Diamonds in our pockets
|
| Radio playing Rocket Man
|
| You spinnin', headlight dancin'
|
| Act like you don’t give a damn
|
| That the paint on my Pontiac’s faded
|
| That’s got me thinkin' baby maybe we’ll make it
|
| Till the stars die and time spreads its wings and flies
|
| And the world ain’t yours and mine like it is tonight
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh
|
| Yeah
|
| It feels like we’ve got
|
| Diamonds in our pockets
|
| Radio playing Rocket Man
|
| You spinnin', headlight dancin'
|
| Act like you don’t give a damn
|
| That the paint on my Pontiac’s faded
|
| That’s got me thinkin' baby maybe we’ll make it
|
| Till the stars die and time spreads its wings and flies
|
| And the world ain’t yours and mine like it is tonight
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh
|
| Oh, oh, oh, oh |