Trophy Scars - El Cowboy Red скачать видео бесплатно

I left my house at a quarter to four

Saw my boy, Sean, at the record store

I said "Damn man, it's been way too long"

He said, "Hey brother, how it's nice to see ya,

Hows your girl, Anna Lucia?

Four years with one chick's way too long"

"I know this blonde her name's Christina

She's just your type I'm sure she'd love to meet ya"

Haha

Damn, I couldn't believe it

I run my mouth dropped and I tried to feed it

The thought could give me an ulcer

But the truth of the matter is I'd love to meet her

Fuck, I mean I love Anna Lucia

But the touch of another just seems so "whoa whoa"

I know I'm better without her

What's the use of a name, without a number?

Yeah

Sean left and said "good luck"

Then he jumped into his truck

He yelled, "Your secrets safe man, I don't give a fuck"

"Okay, gimme her number

Thought about it, yeah I'd love to meet her

I've got the place if she's got the time"

I knew Anna's going out on Sunday

Staying with her mom till late on monday

I know she won't expect a thing

I met Christina at her work on Friday

We hit it off and we were both excited

I invited her on Sunday for a drink

Sunday came quick and so did Christina

She shook me harder than Anna Lucia

She yelled, and screamed my name

Couldn't believe this sin was concieved the culprit was me

Christina was sweet, but trite naive, she wasn't for me

No doctor's degree, no clean history, no small crooked teeth

My percious baby, Anna, if only I could tell ya,

I was sorry, it was never worth it

After the sex, we cleaned up our mess, then we got dressed

Christina said "Please, don't write or call me."

I grinned and agreed, Anna arrived on Monday night, with tears in her eyes

She said " I ain't your fuckin' baby, tell me I am crazy,

I know just waht happened, hope you're fucking happy."

Get your hands off of my hands, lover

I can smell the blood of another

Get your hands off of my hands...

Lover

I didn't need to hear this or that

I got a woman's intuition as a matter of fact

I can still smell the salt and the sex in your breath

Better hit the road, Jack, 'fore I cut you up dead

So help me God if I catch you alive

You burned me so bad that I can't even cry.

Pack up everything that you plan to keep.

I'm heading for the bar and I'm having some drinks...

Get your hands off of my hands, lover