Finger
I got my finger wrapped around your mistakes
I let you linger, I like the taste
Oh quite a vixen on your family tree
You pour my whiskey, stand next to me
I got no time to keep you off my mind
I see you walking, where's your alibi?
Leather jacket cold sweats hot morning cigarettes
Straighten up your tie in your Sunday best
Lucky bets big checks glass eye haven't slept
When he come around he'll put a slug in your chest
Ain't a game such a shame running from the blame
His finger on the trigger in a blackout car
Shoulda wrote a letter shoulda lived a little better
Shoulda got out of town like a shooting star
Five dozen roses in the back of the room
Mixed with a gallon of your, pink perfume
It's quite a mixture of your favorite fumes
Don't act so trixie, howl at the moon
I got no time to keep you off my mind
I see you walking, where's your alibi?
Leather jacket cold sweats hot morning cigarettes
Straighten up your tie in your Sunday best
Lucky bets big checks glass eye haven't slept
When he come around he'll put a slug in your chest
Ain't a game such a shame running from the blame
His finger on the trigger in a blackout car
Shoulda wrote a letter shoulda lived a little better
Shoulda got out of town like a shooting star
I let you linger, I like the taste
Oh quite a vixen on your family tree
You pour my whiskey, stand next to me
I got no time to keep you off my mind
I see you walking, where's your alibi?
Leather jacket cold sweats hot morning cigarettes
Straighten up your tie in your Sunday best
Lucky bets big checks glass eye haven't slept
When he come around he'll put a slug in your chest
Ain't a game such a shame running from the blame
His finger on the trigger in a blackout car
Shoulda wrote a letter shoulda lived a little better
Shoulda got out of town like a shooting star
Five dozen roses in the back of the room
Mixed with a gallon of your, pink perfume
It's quite a mixture of your favorite fumes
Don't act so trixie, howl at the moon
I got no time to keep you off my mind
I see you walking, where's your alibi?
Leather jacket cold sweats hot morning cigarettes
Straighten up your tie in your Sunday best
Lucky bets big checks glass eye haven't slept
When he come around he'll put a slug in your chest
Ain't a game such a shame running from the blame
His finger on the trigger in a blackout car
Shoulda wrote a letter shoulda lived a little better
Shoulda got out of town like a shooting star
Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Schrimpf
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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