|
|
I met this girl on a Saturday night Saturday night
Saturday night Saturday night Saturday night Saturday night
She sat there all alone with a Shirley Temple and a cellular phone
No one to call no one to ring
Cause no one's home
The bartender knew her number and name
I grabbed my cell phone and gave her a ring wrong number
I guess I've got to do it the hard way
I walked up to her having seen the future and said
I'm sorry sorry for making your life a living hell
But that wasn't me
That was alter ego
No that wasn't me
That was Johnny Rocket
She was so confused
From her point of view
I would be confused too
I'm so rude
What was I thinking
But she dug my hair and new suede shoes
So much she dragged me straight, straight to her room
And I was forgetting what I knew I would do
Two hours later we lay on the bed and I said
I'm sorry sorry for making your life a living hell
But that wasn't me
That was alter ego
No that wasn't me
That was Johnny Rocket
I'm sorry sorry for making your life a living hell
|
