I got the dirty old hands of a drummer in a band But I never really hit the sticks I got the sun burned tan of every working man Who's spent a minute in a ditch And I ain't gonna try to tell another lie You never shoulda let me in Cause I'm the type of guy who's never let inside To show you where my hands have been
This is now, that was then You broke my heart, I let you in This is now, that was then I fucked around with all your friends Woah, woah, woah-oh-oh-oh Woah, woah, woah-oh-oh-oh This is now, that was then Forget all about the past and let's hit it again
I make her say ooh Ooh I make her say ooooooooh
She's eleven out of ten; got a body with a pin You could pull it like a hand grenade And I don't know where she's going But I know where she's been Cause it's the only time my bed's been made And I ain't gonna try to tell another lie You trip me when you let me in Cause I'm the type of guy who drinks until his eyes Lose sight of what's in front of him
This is now, that was then You broke my heart, I let you in This is now, that was then I fucked around with all your friends Woah, woah, woah-oh-oh-oh Woah, woah, woah-oh-oh-oh This is now, that was then Forget all about the past and let's hit it again
She's the portrait of a model I'm just a picture of a man She's got her fingers on a bottle But I'm drinking from a can And she's always seeing people And I'm always on my own But she's right here begging Saying "take me home" "Take me home..."
This is now, that was then You broke my heart, I let you in This is now, that was then I fucked around with all your friends Woah, woah, woah-oh-oh-oh Woah, woah, woah-oh-oh-oh This is now, that was then Forget all about the past and let's hit it again
Compositores: David Anthony Katz, Nathaniel Warren Seth Motte (Nathaniel Motte), Sean Michael Foreman (Sean Foreman), Samuel Hollander (Samski) ECAD: Obra #7811226