the weight of her

Butch Walker

Here come the captain
She's a fire-cracker
Skinny jeans

Two lips are horny.
Yeah, she leaves a trail of gasoline.

She'll dream of whiskey and her daddy
She can't even sing.

And all the clappers say, Â?you livin' in her worldÂ?

The word around the streets: she likes the smell of cocaine
It makes her crazy when she mix it up with champagne

You never make it if you don't keep her locked in a cage.
You will be wishin'
Not for any other girl

Don't let the weight of her world bring you down.
Don't let her walk into a room and turn you inside out.
Don't let the touch of her hands take you down.
No, not now. No. not ever. Ever again.

Six forty five, as you wake up
She just goin' to bed.

Clear out the phone from a hundred texts you haven't read
She only wants you when it's later and she's off her head

Pay close attention.
You're just livin' in her world.

And all the Swedish girls they hang out at the hotel
The six foot, green cards; I think they know you very well.

It paints a picture of a movie and it's dark as hell
You won't be wishin'
Not for any other girl.

Don't let the weight of her world bring you down.
Don't let her walk into a room and turn you inside out.
Don't let the touch of her hands take you down.
No, not now. No. not ever. Ever again.