| She’s a screamer but no one knows
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| Just me and her old boyfriends I suppose
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| When I take her to see the folks they eat from her hand
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| On the way home I’m driving
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| I have to stop the car or crash it right there
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| She’s my sticky treat, she’s my bag o' sweets
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| She’s my medicine
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| Oh she’s Saturday night and Sunday morning
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| Like Princess Grace in Rear Window
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| She’s a volcano under snow
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| Sometimes our action’s all slo-mo in holy candlelight
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| I give her all my devotion
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| But sometimes she can’t wait to be mashing on me
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| She’s country soul, she’s jelly roll
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| She’s mountain high, she’s valley low
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| Oh she’s Saturday night and Sunday morning
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| She’s heroin, she’s amphetamine
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| She’s mountain high, she’s valley low
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| She’s my sticky treat, she’s my medicine
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| She’s my medicine, she’s my murder scene
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| She’s Saturday night and Sunday morning |