John Hiatt — The Odds Of Loving You

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Текст John Hiatt — The Odds Of Loving You

Lying
I caught you doing it
Crying
You had to ruin it
I was up on my high horse
Taking notes and naming names
You were sniffling and a snuffling
Fogging up your window pane
I rode in on my high horse
Ran out like a dog in shameYou
Got ways to dealing with me
I
I don’t like feeling
But you keep me on the front stove
And right before I blow my top
Well you school me and you cool me
Baby, don’t you ever stop

Seven nights of heaven
Eleven days of who shot who
Seven come eleven
I like the odds of loving you

I
I like the gravy
But you
You want to save me
From myself and I keep thinking
Of all the nights I spend alone
Well I’m stubborn and I’m stupid
Baby, would you please come home

Seven nights of heaven
Eleven days of who shot who
Seven come eleven
I like the odds of loving you

I like the odds of loving you, babe
I like the odds of loving you