| It’s not black enough to see where any white is
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| So I’ll wait another hour for you and your designer jeans
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| And I remember you as heartless as a freeway
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| And I wonder if the time will make your eyes like angelynes
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| Will you shuffle to your seat, greasy head and naked feet?
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| And your expensive hands are swinging all your Beverly keys
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| The latest colors on your lip, there’s a satchel at your hips
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| And it’s all full of broken Barbie dolls and disassembled dreams
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| If you don’t want for them to hate you because you’re beautiful
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| How can you want them all to love you for the same thing?
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| For the same thing
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| You went and left your license on the car seat
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| You had a couple drinks with him and then you changed your name
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| And then he handed you a tambourine and whistled
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| No matter what they call you by, the meaning stays the same
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| And now your shotgun on the floor, your window’s just a door
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| Riding backward 'cross state lines in high heels that they made you wear
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| Your steamers in the trunk, it’s all loaded up with junk
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| Like lead and blood and dust and hair and stuff to kill the sting
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| You don’t want for them to hate you because you’re beautiful
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| How can you want them all to love you for the same thing?
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| For the same thing
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| Well your shotgun on the floor, your window’s just a door
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| Riding backward 'cross state lines in high heels that they made you wear
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| Your steamers in the trunk, it’s all loaded up with junk
|
| Like lead and blood and dust and hair and stuff to kill the sting
|
| You don’t want for them to hate you because you’re beautiful
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| How can you want them all to love you for the same thing?
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| For the same thing |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Lunch , by - Shivaree. Song from the album I Oughtta Give You A Shot In The Head For Making Me Live In This Dump, in the genre Рок