Текст: Good Life (The). Album Of The Year. Notes In His Pockets.

Drunk at the bar, at last, last call
My baby is home on her night off
So I?m involved in a serious talk
With a girl I had known growing up
So we buy a six; decide to split
She has a downtown apartment
She opens the door, falls to the floor
Says, ?I?m bitter sick of sweet and pure
Take me now, I?m yours?

Notes in his pockets
Rumors in the mill
Phone calls after the bars close
Unlisted numbers
If she only knew, then he?d be through
But who knows which parts are true
She hates how it looks
But what can she do?
The girls all talk behind her back
They say she?s being used

At Sullivan?s drinking with Justin
He says he?s seen my ex-girlfriend
She?s back in town, and what?s worse
He knows where and when she works
So we head over to the Underwood
She?s trading shots with regulars
She gives me a hug
Until our hips are flush
Says, ?Boy, we?ve hardly kept in touch
It?s time for catching up?

Notes in his pockets
Rumors in the mill
Phone calls after the bars close
Unlisted numbers
Still, he insists on his innocence
Says those girls are all gossips
She?s got to drop the axe
Catch him in the act
With his shame around his ankles
Chain the guilt around his neck


(Thanks to Sarah for these lyrics)