The smoke cloud billows out his mouth Like a freight train through a small town The jokes that he told across the bar Were revolting and far too loud
They shake their heads saying "God, help her" when I tell 'em he's my man But your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really, I can And only I can
The dopamine races through his brain On a six-lane Texas highway His hands so callus from his pistol Softly traces hearts on my face And I could see it from a mile away A perfect case for my certain skill set He had a halo of the highest grade Hе just hadn't met me yet
Thеy shake their heads saying "God, help her" when I tell 'em he's my man But your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really, I can And only I can
Good boy, that's right Come close I'll show you Heaven if you'll be an angel, all mine Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man No really, I can
They shook their heads saying "God, help her" when I told them he's my man (I told them he's my man) But your good lord didn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really, I can (No, really, I can) Woah, maybe I can't
Compositores: Jack Michael Antonoff (BMI), Taylor Alison Swift (BMI)Editores: Songs Of Universal Inc (BMI), Tasrm Publishing (BMI)ECAD verificado obra #43366099 em 05/Jun/2024 com dados da UBEM