Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Som


Interface


Nível de dificuldade


Sotaque



Interface de linguagem

pt

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Política de cookies   |   Suporte   |   FAQ
1
cadastre-se / faça login
Lyrkit

doar

5$

Lyrkit

doar

10$

Lyrkit

doar

20$

Lyrkit

E/ou me apoie nas redes sociais. redes:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Trisha Yearwood

Pistol

 

Pistol

(álbum: Jasper County - 2005)


Well, this is what happens when you fall for a pistol...
No, no, I don't mean no gun.
Talking 'bout a man with bells and whistles...
The kind that keeps your heart on the run.

I met that cat in a two-bit juke-joint...
Took my money in a game of pool.
Next thing I knew, I was sitting 'hind the eight ball,
Playing my heart, breaking all the rules.
Throw your rope around the runaway freight train,
You know it's gonna drag you down the track.
You dust your britches off, an' tell yourself you're insane,
But every time you love a man like that...

You get lost; you get lonely.
You get calls from the police.
Tell your Mama: "Don't know what happened."
Well you wanted trouble?
Now you got a fistful.
That's what happens when you fall for a pistol.
Ah ha.

[Instrumental break]

Well, you'd think by now I'd a-learned my lesson.
But I keep making them same mistakes.
There must be some clue I keep missing...
How many times can a good heart break?
Well, I keep falling for all them bad boys...
Poor or rich as dirt.
Lots of fun, and I ain't joking,
But every time I think I won't get hurt...

I get lost; I get lonely.
I get calls from the police.
Tell my Mama: "Don't know what happened."
Well, I wanted trouble?
Now I got a fistful.
That's what happens when you fall for a pistol.

[Instrumental break]

Well, you get lost; you get lonely.
You get calls from the police.
Tell your Mama: "Don't know what happened."
Well you wanted trouble, now you got a fistful.
Well, that's what happens when you fall for a pistol.
Well, that's what happens when you fall for a pistol, girl.

Sort of men'd give you a headache, now.
Oh, you'd better get on home.

[To fade]

feito

Você adicionou todas as palavras desconhecidas dessa música?