Song Length |
3:39 |
Genre |
Pop - Rock |
Lyrics
A Hollywood motel, a girl next door
She could have been a princess or a two-bit whore
Either way, I knew I would be game for her
So I knocked on her door
And before I knew what happened
We we?re down on the floor
So much for the usual formalities
But when it came to the next day
She had said, ?My boy you best be getting on your pretty way.?
Chorus:
She had spoken, I was broken
I slammed another bottle and I picked up smoking
She?s dancing circles in my head
I?m down on Wilshire Boulevard
I?m set up on the sidewalk with my mic and guitar
She passes by: Gucci shirt, mini skirt, a twinkle in them eyes
?Excuse me, miss, but do you even remember me?
This here song?s to let you know
Just what you have done to me.?
So I sang about her lips, her hips
The magic of her fingertips
And she says, ?My boy your problem?s you?re still just small chips.?
Chorus
One night stands in Candyland
?Bout as productive as its traffic jams
But I can change, yes, I can grow
But hold on ? that might be her on the phone, yeah
She might be all alone, yeah
Chorus