You Need a Gun (To Blow My Mind)

Well drink up girl and I'll buy the next round
Shut up and cut the crap and drink it down
And I sure wish for one thing that you'd button up that gown
Cause you push, and you pull, and you push

And I recall every phrase
As I look into your face
I smell the blood of the chase
It's just a dead men's race

You need a gun to blow my mind
But you hit me with a feather
All of the time
You need a gun to blow my mind
But you hit me with a feather
All of the time
And I blow it away

You're digging under my skin
But I won't let you in
Those movie stills and the books that you've read
The words fall out of your face
And back into bed
Emotions stagger, cut short with a dagger
Of cruel platitudes
And rude commonplaces

And I recall every phrase
As I look into your face
I smell the blood of the chase
It's just a dead men's race

You need a gun to blow my mind
But you hit me with a feather
All of the time
You need a gun to blow my mind
But you hit me with a feather
All of the time