Sometimes I wonder about your wicked ways
Do you really think the world is yours for the taking
And that all those hearts passing by have been breaking
Just because you wore a tight shirt and winked at them
All the short skirts and makeup in the world
Will never change what you are made of
And when God thinks about her creation of you
It begins to rain in heaven
Many more than I have uttered the words
“I just don’t want any of it”
Our eyes have realized that you were just making the rounds
There is no sugar, spice, or anything nice
More like a knife, slicing its way through life
With intentions to make your path
By bending over backwards
More than once
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