Vārdi: Shivaree. Who's Got Trouble. It Got All Black.

It got all black in the bottom of my glass
I looked up and there was Bridgette Fontaine
I've got poison in my head, I've got chocolate and bread
And I may never leave this room again

Now it's dark and you love me, honey, count to ten
I can help you to distinguish your pain
It's so gorgeous to be back in Paris once again
Now I wonder what they put in the rain

This could be true or it could take all of an hour
I could just forget you have a cocktail and a shower
Like my mother taught me

That everybody loves a mystery
So you can leave it at your name and your rank
If we like it maybe I can get your history
Maybe put a little more in the bank

This could be true or we could just be a while here
Find better things to do
'Cause you might go out of style dear

And remember only
Ice cream, sunshine, thrill rides, and a song
They can leave you doubled over, burned and broken
If they take too long

This could be true or we could be all of an hour
I could still forget you have a cocktail and a shower
Like my mother said, it's true

That we could just be a while here
Find better things to do
'Cause you might go out of style dear
Remember that it's black in the bottom of my glass
It's black in the bottom of my glass