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She was a livewire, she was stuck in the past |
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I was holding the middle, you was waking up fast |
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It was four in the morning, she was holding on tight |
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to a David Bowie look a like circa '85 |
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Now he's turning up his amplifier, staring at his toes |
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Even when he's looking at you he's still looking down his nose |
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Sounds like sir's music maybe more than just a little |
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but to me it's just another form of California dribble |
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the top and bottom look straight to me but shaky in the middle |
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Well there's something to be learned here |
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Though it may seem a little insincere |
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Like a cruel clown grinning ear to ear |
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You're a country singer I'm a cavalier |
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Well I wanna know the whole story over |
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Where you came from, where you going, |
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However long it takes to know you |
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With your heavy metal heartbeat |
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Salty but you seem sweet |
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Tippy toes on both feet |
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Rockin to the teen beat |
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Well, ice cream, soda pop, bourbon on top |
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Some people call it rock and roll and some people call it pop |
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Some call it country music every time you use a fiddle |
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How am I supposed to know if that's a fact or just a riddle? |
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Too tight around the edges, leave a little room to wiggle. |
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Well there's something to be learned here |
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Though it may seem a little insincere |
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Like a cruel clown grinning ear to ear |
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You're a country singer, I'm a cavalier |
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Oh oo oh oo oh (x8) |
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Well there's something to be learned here |
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Though it may seem a little insincere |
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Like a cruel clown grinning ear to ear |
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You're a psycho killer, I'm a cavalier |
