If I was in world war two they'd call me spitfire Cause you know that I can If I was in world war two they'd call me spit. fire If I was in world war two they'd call me spit.

Something inside so strong There's something inside so strong I know that I can make it Though you're doin' me wrong, so wrong You thought that my pride was gone, oh no The higher you build your barriers, the taller I become The farther you take my

And that was a dark depressing time for him, you know He did had one visit with his mother I think During the time that he lived with me and she brought Him a huge box filled with gifts you know clothes and all Kinds of little goodies and stuff and it

I got a radio and a shotgun seat It's time for me to take you home girl I don't know who brought you here and he left you alone And it's getting late Hey there honey, in your cut up jeans Whatcha drinkin' I was thinkin' you could save a sip for me I've

And baby, you've got what it takes You know you've got just what it takes Well, now, it takes more than a Robin to make the winter go And it takes two lips of fire to melt away the snow Well, it takes two hearts a cookin' to make a fire grow And baby,

Gotta get me some. And it turns out she's got everything I want, but all rolled into one. She smokes a little home grown, drinks a little Cuervo. Still a little down home, there was never a doubt. You know, she's got everything I want, but all rolled

Dream over, grieve no more And I breathe one last time Now I lay thee down Was it lost? Was it murdered? Within the eye of the beholder Oh, I want to know How it feels when we die Can you take me under? Oh, she watched me leave

What you call me? (tramp!) No you didn't! (you don't wear continental clothes, or Stetson hats) Well, I tell you one doggone thing It makes me feel good to know one thing, I know I am a lover (Matter of opinion) that's all right, mama was, papa too And

Then it's just a sad song that's too sad to sing I don't know how to write you a song That says, I'm sorry, I know I was wrong I can't find the words that don't make it cheap It's right on the verge and just out of reach It must be a sad song with a blue

So many roads, so many trains to ride I was standin' by my window, when I heard that whistle blow It was a mean ol' fireman and a cruel ol' engineer I've got to find my baby, 'fore I'll be satisfied You know I thought it was a Streamline, but it was a B