Sangtekst: John Pierce. I'd Still Have You.
I used to blame it on the clock,
'Cause I swear it stops when you're with good friends.
An' Billy sayin': "One more shot,"
An' damn that shot always turned to ten.
Oh, but I'm afraid the truth,
Is if it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
I used to blame it on the wind,
When it got still it meant the fish were bitin'.
Used to think the devil's to blame,
For the hell I've raised an' all that fightin'.
Yeah it'd make a good excuse:
If it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
No, it ain't my fault;
That's a real nice thought;
Only problem is, it just ain't true.
An' still I curse the night an' everything in sight:
Anything to keep from feeling like a fool,
'Cause if it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
I used to point my finger at,
The fact that you were born to money.
I could never measure up;
No poor boy's love could ever keep you, honey.
But a lie won't hide the truth:
If it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
No, it ain't my fault;
That's a real nice thought;
Only problem is, it just ain't true.
An' still I curse the night an' everything in sight:
Anything to keep from feeling like a fool,
'Cause if it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
I used to blame it on the clock,
'Cause I swear it stops when you're with good friends.
An' Billy sayin': "One more shot,"
An' damn that shot always turned to ten.
'Cause I swear it stops when you're with good friends.
An' Billy sayin': "One more shot,"
An' damn that shot always turned to ten.
Oh, but I'm afraid the truth,
Is if it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
I used to blame it on the wind,
When it got still it meant the fish were bitin'.
Used to think the devil's to blame,
For the hell I've raised an' all that fightin'.
Yeah it'd make a good excuse:
If it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
No, it ain't my fault;
That's a real nice thought;
Only problem is, it just ain't true.
An' still I curse the night an' everything in sight:
Anything to keep from feeling like a fool,
'Cause if it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
I used to point my finger at,
The fact that you were born to money.
I could never measure up;
No poor boy's love could ever keep you, honey.
But a lie won't hide the truth:
If it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
No, it ain't my fault;
That's a real nice thought;
Only problem is, it just ain't true.
An' still I curse the night an' everything in sight:
Anything to keep from feeling like a fool,
'Cause if it weren't for me, I'd still have you.
I used to blame it on the clock,
'Cause I swear it stops when you're with good friends.
An' Billy sayin': "One more shot,"
An' damn that shot always turned to ten.