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By coujeaux Date: 2002 Sep 28 Comment on this Work [[2002.09.28.11.09.9422]] |
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Can't move her no more, 'cause she dug in, expectin' the worst, There ain't a part left of all o' me she hadn't already cursed. One wrong move is all it take to set her memory into overdrive, An' it seem like I'm always fighting ghosts o' every man alive. I hadn't done her no wrong, in fact I'm only one she can trust, But I'm guilty by her associations wit' boys pursued they lust. Now who you think you foolin' with that scar you call a smile? Rantin' and ravin' like a preacher, throw y'hands up in denial. Gotta have some shifty shoulders to throw off all o' that blame, Too bad your reputation ain't got half the Teflon of your shame. Dig all the trenches you want, baby, makes no difference for me, I'm through battlin' advances of the intruders only you can see. At back of the storybook o' romance lies appendix few have noted, Pages to which rules on engagin' these sort o' women are devoted. Useful reference for men confused by endless barrage o' her past, Even show escape route should he decide to sound retreat at last. If you love become grudge match, no matter the side you choose, You one foot in enemy territory, an' it a war everyone will lose. |