| I still smell the smoke, I still taste the Crown
|
| I still feel the vinyl of the backseat
|
| With the windows halfway down
|
| Yeah, I still hear «Pour Some Sugar on Me» in the tape deck
|
| With both of us singing along
|
| And I still hear me saying, «Baby, not yet, not yet»
|
| We talk about our memory
|
| Damn girl, you put a few on me, on me
|
| Life pulled out like a limo onto the highway after the prom
|
| Time ran down like a scoreboard on the last Hail Mary bomb
|
| And my heart’s still stuck at a stoplight
|
| With you sitting there next to me
|
| And the red light won’t turn green
|
| Yeah, it won’t turn green
|
| Damn you, seventeen
|
| Damn you, seventeen
|
| I still smell your hair, I still taste the salt
|
| Mixed with the cherry on your lips
|
| Afraid your momma might come home
|
| I still see all of your vintage rock and roll t-shirts
|
| Hanging on your closet door
|
| Back when we really didn’t know what we were
|
| Who we were
|
| We talk about our heartache
|
| I’m still wearing out the replay, the replay
|
| Life pulled out like a limo onto the highway after the prom
|
| Time ran down like a scoreboard on the last Hail Mary bomb
|
| And my heart’s still stuck at a stoplight
|
| With you sitting there next to me
|
| And the red light won’t turn green
|
| Yeah, it won’t turn green
|
| Damn you, seventeen
|
| Damn you, seventeen
|
| Well, I wanna call
|
| But I bet your number’s changed a couple times
|
| A couple towns ago, but I can’t let you go
|
| Life pulled out like a limo onto the highway after the prom
|
| Time ran down like a scoreboard on the last Hail Mary bomb
|
| And my heart’s still stuck at a stoplight
|
| With you sitting there next to me
|
| And the red light won’t turn green
|
| No, it won’t turn green
|
| Damn you, seventeen
|
| Damn you, seventeen (Oh)
|
| Damn you, seventeen
|
| My heart’s still stuck at a stoplight
|
| With you sitting there next to me (Oh)
|
| And I wanna call ya
|
| Ooh, oh
|
| Damn you, seventeen
|
| Oh, whoa |