TROUBLE IN A BOTTLE
Dancin’ at the jukebox
Lookin’ so proud
Knowin’ all the right words
But singin’ too loud
Whiskey voice
Lips like a model
That there is trouble in a bottle
Look-y there
How she’s shakin’ those hips
She’s got the whole bar
At her fingertips
Smokey eyes
Comin’ on full throttle
That there is trouble in a bottle
Don’t walk my way, I’ve got a gun in my car
I’ll shoot myself if you come closer
Not gonna get mixed up with you
I’ve come too far …
My final answer is “No, sir …”
Painted on jeans
Poured into that sweater
Those red high heels
Don’t make me feel any better
Hair flows like brandy
Kinda girl I could coddle
That there is trouble in a bottle
Don’t walk my way, I’ve got a gun in my car
I’ll shoot myself if you come closer
Not gonna get mixed up with you
I’ve come too far …
My final answer is “No, sir …”
You walk my way
I catch my breath
What’s sure to follow
Is sudden death
I’m drunk on love
There’s no time to dawdle
That there is trouble in a bottle
Bartender pour me another one
Don’t let her be like the other ones
Me and her can have some fun
Till the hurt hits the fan
You walk my way
I catch my breath
What’s sure to follow
Is sudden death
I’m drunk on love
There’s no time to dawdle
That there is trouble in a bottle
That there is trouble in a bottle
© 2016 Britta Lee Shain