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SHIVAREE
WHO'S GOT TROUBLE |
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It Got All Black
It got all black in the bottom of my glass
I looked up and there was Bridgette Fontaine
I've got poison in my head, I've got chocolate and bread
And I may never leave this room again
Now its dark and you love me, honey, count to ten
I can help you to distinguish your pain
It's so gorgeous to be back in Paris once again
Now I wonder what they put in the rain
This could be true
Or it could take all of an hour
I could just forget you
Have a cocktail and a shower
Like my mother taught me
That everybody loves a mystery
So you can leave it at your name and your rank
If we like it maybe I can get your history
Maybe put a little more in the bank
This could be true
Or we could just be a while here
Find better things to do
Think you might go out of style dear
Ice cream, sunshine, thrill rides, and a song
They can leave you doubled over, burned and broken
If they take too long
This could be true
Or we could be all of an hour
I could still forget you
Have a cocktail and a shower
Like my mother said
It's true
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