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INGRAM HILL >> Merchandise Links
INGRAM HILL
Maybe her eyes are just a little bit red Almost all the time Maybe her hair, it smells like cigarettes When I climb into bed with her at night She don't wanna try But this just feels so right She's almost perfect She is so close to being everything She's almost perfect But she's not, she's not mine Maybe she knows she drives me crazy Just bats her eyes like she's my baby Maybe she's quick to let her tongue fly at me She's not the most proper lady I'm the one to blame I know I caused this crash So now I wander in this mess Int this lake of sour mashed Through my head the notion that Maybe she's not quite honest with me Almost all the time Maybe I know there's someone else in her life When I climb into bed with her at night
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