It all started with a kiss on the lips. From some trash talkin' punk with a bad set of tricks. He called me names but stumbled so hard. Fell off the mountain I'm climbing from afar. You're the snake sneakin' through my garden gate, but I see you now and honey, it's too late Don't mess me up, don't pull me under. I'll hit the bar, drown you out like thunder. Whisky in my head but rum in the yard. I've got your things, they're for sale by the barn. You don’t even know my favorite thing, do ya? Well here’s a clue Babe—it ain’t you You were the splinter in my wooden heart. Tried to cut me down but I’m a work of art. Now I’m shining bright like a jukebox star. You’re just the static in a busted old car. You're the snake sneakin' through my garden gate. But I’m the gardener and you’re my mistake Don’t mess me up, don’t twist my story. I’ll write the end in all my glory. Whisky in my head but rum in the yard. I’ve got your junk, its on sale by the barn. You don’t even know my favorite thing, do ya? Here’s a hint. Babe—it’s living through ya
