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put me down for her to be dead by sunday some one said tuesday morning...
put me down for her to be dead by sunday some one said tuesday morning...
i tell you
i'll love her the best i can
but i gotta thing for those these broken women
you see
i gotta thing for these shooting stars
those that fizzle once they reach mars
once they do they're outta their mind
outta sight outta mind
those one of a kind
over & over
but i gotta thing for those girls you write about
much like me
whom die & fizzle out
i gotta thing for those shooting stars
clipping them off like chosen ones marked
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