Something about the way that you walked into my living room,
Casually and confident,
looking at the mess I am, but still you,
still you want me.
Stress lines and cigarettes, politics and deficits,
late bills and overages, screaming and hollering,
but still you,
still you want me.
You
shout it on the ground
I find you next to me.
There's something about the way that you always see the pretty view.
Overlook the mud and mess.
Always look and never listen.
Still you, still you want me.
I got no innocence.
Faith ain't no privilege.
I am a deck of cards,
vice or a game of hearts and still you,
still you want me
thank you for taking just one moment with me
worth it.