Dixon’s Girl Songtext
von Dessa
Dixon’s Girl Songtext
Oh, someone taught your walls to talk
But if they ask me, I ain′t heard a thing
Back to the wall, bat to the ball
Back to the drawing board
Back to the wall, bat to the ball
Back to the drawing board
Back to the wall, bat to the ball
Back to the drawing board again
There was a snowstorm in Jackson when you and I met
At a club called St. Sebastian's, but the sign said something different
I remember thinkin′ that I didn't have a shot at Mississippi
Television told us which roads they were closing
There goes a rap show
Everybody knew you as the wife of a famous man
Everybody who knew said "There goes Dixon's girl again"
Even the walls will lean closer
When she plays the piano real soft
Haven′t met too many women in this business that I really like, like, like
But you can hold a little liquor, you can hold a conversation
You can hold your own mic
Even that night I learned the truth about your man
You gotta be big to treat pretty girls bad
It′s not much, but my money's on you
It′s not much, but my money's on you
It′s not much, but my money
It's not much, but my money
Not much, but my money, my money′s on you
Well, I heard from the rest of the world you're in trouble
Bad news moves like fire that you fight on the phone
And I'm too far away, my well-wishin′ can′t touch you
But I think of you still more than you might suppose
Everybody wanna to see you with your hair down
Wanna hear you hit the high note
Wanna know if they can get you for a little less
Girl, I don't, I know how the stones can fly
Had some hard goodbyes
Call me up, day or night, free drinks and bad advice
And it′s not much, but my money's on you
It′s not much, but my money, my money's on you
It′s on you, it's on you
Yeah, my money's on you
It′s on you, it′s on you
Yeah, my money's on you
But if they ask me, I ain′t heard a thing
Back to the wall, bat to the ball
Back to the drawing board
Back to the wall, bat to the ball
Back to the drawing board
Back to the wall, bat to the ball
Back to the drawing board again
There was a snowstorm in Jackson when you and I met
At a club called St. Sebastian's, but the sign said something different
I remember thinkin′ that I didn't have a shot at Mississippi
Television told us which roads they were closing
There goes a rap show
Everybody knew you as the wife of a famous man
Everybody who knew said "There goes Dixon's girl again"
Even the walls will lean closer
When she plays the piano real soft
Haven′t met too many women in this business that I really like, like, like
But you can hold a little liquor, you can hold a conversation
You can hold your own mic
Even that night I learned the truth about your man
You gotta be big to treat pretty girls bad
It′s not much, but my money's on you
It′s not much, but my money's on you
It′s not much, but my money
It's not much, but my money
Not much, but my money, my money′s on you
Well, I heard from the rest of the world you're in trouble
Bad news moves like fire that you fight on the phone
And I'm too far away, my well-wishin′ can′t touch you
But I think of you still more than you might suppose
Everybody wanna to see you with your hair down
Wanna hear you hit the high note
Wanna know if they can get you for a little less
Girl, I don't, I know how the stones can fly
Had some hard goodbyes
Call me up, day or night, free drinks and bad advice
And it′s not much, but my money's on you
It′s not much, but my money, my money's on you
It′s on you, it's on you
Yeah, my money's on you
It′s on you, it′s on you
Yeah, my money's on you
Writer(s): Dustin Edward Kiel, Dessa Margret Wander, Joey Van Phillips, Serge Lama, Alice Dona Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com