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Слова
We always said ain't nothing in this world
You and me couldn't figure out
So, I cranked it up, came down here to work it out
I knew you'd be out here, sippin', hanging round
Been waiting on you, quit talking in the corner with some new guy
Just kinda figured you'd be telling him goodbye
That you'd still be comin' home with me tonight
Why you're getting in his truck, girl?
Are you really giving up, girl?
And thought you'd be sitting here missing what we had
And I'd come to this bar and get you back
I don't understand, girl
We had all of these plans, girl
If you're my Sunday shotgun queen
And I'm your whole world
Then, why you're getting in his truck, girl?
You always said that you loved my 94 sunburnt Chevy
Old school cool, when you ride around with me
So, what's different now?
'Cause I can't seem to figure out
Why you're getting in his truck, girl?
Are you really giving up, girl?
Thought you'd be sitting here missing what we had
And I'd come to this bar and get you back
I don't understand, girl
We had all of these plans, girl
If you're my Sunday shotgun queen
And I'm your whole world
Then, why you getting in his truck, girl?
Why you're getting in his truck, girl?
Why you walking out of this bar, hanging onto his arm?
Why you're leaving me, standing here, falling apart?
Why you with him, girl
You're supposed to be my girl
So, why you're getting in his truck, girl?
Are you really giving up, girl?
And thought you'd be sitting here missing what we had
And I'd come to this bar and get you back
I don't understand, girl
We had all of these plans, girl
If you're my Sunday shotgun queen
And I'm your whole world
Then, why you're getting in his truck, girl?
(You're supposed to be my girl)
Writer(s): Mason Alexander Thornley, Johnny Gates, Josh Ross
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