They don't wanna see it happen But we say, "Fuck it" One way or another I'mma love you Slidin' under covers, undercover You know they don't wanna see us together But it don't matter, no, 'cause I got you Anytime you're under the weather Babe, we can

You, oh, oh, you, oh, oh Baby, this is what you came for Lightning strikes every time she moves And everybody's watching her But she's looking at you, oh, oh You, oh, oh We go fast till they can't replay Who knows why it's gotta be this way

Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December But the days grow short when you reach September When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame One hasn't got time for the waiting game Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few September, November

Oh you, you, you There's twenty-four hours in a day, I think about you more than twenty-four times Just trying not to think about you but you've been on my mind I got nothing for you but time 'Cause you always end up by my side Through loving you, I

Oh, I'm doing it again I said it would end But here it goes again Yes, I'm doing it again Here it goes again First time we ever got a chance to be alone we knew It was wrong to do I guess that's why I was drawn to you Second time leads to the third, the

Been a minute since I pulled up outside Work it like a stripper, yeah But you not a stripper, yeah Dog her down with ya, yeah Work that nine to five with ya, yeah Shut it down, yeah, we do that everytime Ooh-wee got a feeling you might, yeah Oh my, oh

Sometimes it all gets a little too much But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up And you don't have to be afraid, because we're all the same So she didn't let it get in her way And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much She

Shake your moneymaker Got to shake your moneymaker Well, I got a girl, she lives upon the hill Oh, go on baby, go on back to school Sometimes she won't, sometimes I think she will Oh, I love you baby, tell you the reason why I love you baby, tell you the

Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December But the days grow short when you reach September When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame One hasn't got time for the waiting game Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few September, November

The way he should I got it bad, and that ain't good Never treats me sweet and gentle 'Cause I got it bad, and that ain't good My poor heart is sentimental Not made of wood But when the weekend's over And Monday rolls around My man and me We pray some