I Want You #35

Daddy bought you like a toy
Mama taught you to be coy
Make your bed down in the dirt
Bow your head, lift your skirt

From your lips to my ears
All down through your tender ears
A poor little rich girl, junk food heiress
Born in fourth world, raised in Paris
Well, listen, honey, screwed the money, I want you

Something changed you, laid you low
Don't judge senses, made you slow
Wrote your name down in the book
State the claim on how do you look

I can't blame you if you think that
Tie you to the kitchen sink
Drain your pockets, drink your blood
Drag you through the muck and mud
Must be said, you made your bed, but I want you

It's the way your hair falls in your face
And the way you move from place to place
It's the way you wear your curse
As if there could be something worse than

Trapped inside a glass house dying
Waiting for the bricks to fly
Oh my, my, my

So he left you with no God
Trapped behind that cracked facade
Had for a woman, have a heart
Not too down, not too smart

I'll have once something clicks
Eat you like a ton of bricks
And circumstances been to break you
Why, oh, why would God forsake you?
Vis-à-vis, him or me? I want you

Well, a long shot, baby, I don't care, I want you



Credits
Writer(s): Rodney Crowell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link