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