The smoke cloud billows out his mouth like a freight train through a small town
The jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud
They shake their heads saying: God, help her, when I tell ‘em he’s my man
But your good Lord doesn’t need to lift a finger
I can fix him, no, really, I can
And only I can
The dopamine races through his brain on a six-lane Texas highway
His hands, so calloused from his pistol, softly traces hearts on my face
And I could see it from a mile away
A perfect case for my certain skill set
He had a halo of the highest gradе
He just hadn’t met me yеt
They shake their heads saying: God, help her, when I tell ‘em he’s my man
But your good Lord doesn’t need to lift a finger
I can fix him, no, really, I can
And only I can
Good boy, that’s right, come close
I’ll show you heaven if you’ll be an angel, all mine
Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man
No, really, I can
They shook their heads saying: God, help her, when I told ‘em he’s my man (I told ‘em he’s my man)
But your good Lord didn’t need to lift a finger
I can fix him, no, really, I can (no, really, I can)
Woah, maybe I can’t
