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lyrics

It's the time, time of the season you get frisky beyond reason
You look fine and you know it, but no one wants to see you naked
I'd like to see you fake it, that you could really make it break it
You say you're just like us dudes, but nobody believes you

You're nothing but a crotch rocket
You really dive right in it
You've got one hand in my pocket and the other one is working my fly

Every day you wake me from those haunted dreams you gave me
You're running round in circles while you're trying to get near me
And by the time it's real late it's getting hard for me to walk straight
You're always pushing me 'round in a reflex to that high sound

You're nothing but a crotch rocket
You really dive right in it
You've got one hand in my pocket and the other one is working my fly

In the dark you really are a dog
You sneak in while I'm sleeping like a log
I want you to get out of my shed
I don't care if the rain will get you soaking wet

credits

from A Horse Named Sadness, Leftovers & Lost Sessions, released January 18, 2010

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Golden Receivers Utrecht

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