Текст: Jeremiah Freed. Ginger.

One, two, three, four

Certain kinds of nights
Find me swimming alone, inside my bed
Certain kinds of songs
Leave me without a sound, without a trace

But now I know
Something ain't right inside of her
Now I know
Something ain't right inside of her

Certain kinds of sounds
Find me slippin' away, driftin' away
Certain kinds of light
Find me falling into her summer dress

Now I know
Something ain't right inside of her
Now I know
Something ain't right inside of her

Oh it's not out of respect
The door is closed, but the walls still haunt me
It's not out of respect
The door is closed, but the walls still haunt me
Still haunt me

Now I know
Something ain't right inside of her
Now I know
Something ain't right inside of her

Look but now I know
Something ain't right inside of her
Now I know
Something ain't right inside of her