| I’ve loved everything about you that hurts
|
| So let me see your moves
|
| Let me see your moves
|
| Lips pressed close to mine, true blue
|
| But the prince of any failing empire knows
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| That everybody wants
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| Everybody wants to drive on through the night
|
| If it’s the drive back home
|
| Things aren’t the same anymore
|
| Some nights it gets so bad
|
| You almost pick up the phone
|
| Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns
|
| I sleep with your old shirts
|
| And walk through this house in your shoes
|
| I know it’s strange
|
| It’s a strange way of saying
|
| That I know I’m supposed to love you
|
| I’m supposed to love you
|
| I’ve already given up on myself twice
|
| Third time is the charm
|
| Third time is the charm
|
| A caution to the wind
|
| But I’ve got a lousy arm
|
| And I’ve traced your shadows on the wall
|
| Now I kiss them whenever I’m down
|
| Whenever I’m down
|
| Figured I’m not figuring myself out
|
| Things aren’t the same anymore
|
| Some nights it gets so bad
|
| I almost pick up the phone
|
| Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns
|
| I sleep with your old shirts
|
| And walk through this house in your shoes
|
| I know it’s strange
|
| It’s a strange way of saying
|
| That I know I’m supposed to love you
|
| I’m supposed to love you
|
| Born under a bad sign
|
| But you saved my life
|
| That night on the roof of your hotel
|
| Cross my heart and hope to die
|
| Splinter from the headboard in my eye
|
| Photo-proofed kisses I remember so well
|
| Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns
|
| I sleep with your old shirts
|
| And walk through this house in your shoes
|
| I know it’s strange
|
| It’s a strange way of saying
|
| That I know I’m supposed to love you
|
| I’m supposed to love you |