Seven Sore Bruises

Werth-Williams

Your Momma caught me rockin' in a place she thought was shockin'
If it wasn't for the stocking that she found around my neck
I think she wouldn't care a little but she hit me like a skittle
And I landed in the middle of the DJ's deck

Your Momma caught me walkin' with a blonde I was a talkin'
And I didn't hear her stalkin' up behind me on the street
I tried to make her laugh it off, I saw she wouldn't have it
When she threw me at the traffic, well, I knew that I was beat

Seven sore bruises, your Momma's big shoes did
For messin' 'round with floosies while your back was turned
She ravaged my poor legs, savaged my forehead
I wish I was dead, you know I sure got burned

Your Momma caught me holding close a girl like we were soldered
And I guess she thought my olden days had all returned again
Because she threw me 'cross her shoulder, rammed my head into a boulder
And I went out even colder than a stone age man



Credits
Writer(s): Trevor Leslie Williams, Anthony Connor, Howard Werth
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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