Back To Index Trisha Yearwood"Pistol" Well, this is what happens when you fall for a pistol... No, no, I don't mean no gun. Talkin' 'bout a man with bells and whistles... The kind that keeps your heart on the run. I met that cat in a two-bit juke-joint... Took my money in a game of pool. Next thing I knew, I was sittin' 'hind the eight ball, Playin' my heart, breakin' all the rules. Throw your rope around the runaway freight train, You know it's gonna drag you down the track. You dust your britches off, an' tell yourself you're insane, But every time you love a man like that... You get lost; you get lonely. You get calls from the police. Tell your Mama: |
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