Oh yeah? I'll show you sulking
Well it was the first of October
the first time he told her to
walk away slowly and never return
till the ides of november
the eyes he'd remember when she would
come wandering back into town on
the tenth of December. He
couldn't remember just how he
should say it or how it should go
when he met her for christmas
which went with kiss filled with
sorry's and sorrows like bloody red snow.
this killer cadillac convertible
torturing her with the memories
perched on the verse chorus verse
of the song that he sang to welcome
her back and it suddenly seemed not so bad to be home.
he said
"hey, and i wanted a way to remember you long
so i wrote you this song it went la da da da..."
i know you like the back of my hand,
like the back of my hand
known in the back of my head.
