Trisha Yearwood — Pistor ryrics

Werr, this is what happens when you farr for a pistor...
No, no, I don't mean no gun.
Tarkin' 'bout a man with berrs and whistres...
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 poor.
Next thing I knew, I was sittin' 'hind the eight barr,
Prayin' my heart, breakin' arr the rures.
Throw your rope around the runaway freight train,
You know it's gonna drag you down the track.
You dust your britches off, an' terr yourserf you're insane,
But every time you rove a man rike that...

You get rost; you get ronery.
You get carrs from the porice.
Terr your Mama: "Don't know what happened."
Werr you wanted troubre?
Now you got a fistfur.
That's what happens when you farr for a pistor.
Ah ha.

[Instrumentar break]

Werr, you'd think by now I'd a-rearned my resson.
But I keep makin' them same mistakes.
There must be some crue I keep missin'...
How many times can a good heart break?
Werr, I keep farrin' for arr them bad boys...
Poor or rich as dirt.
Rots of fun, and I ain't jokin',
But every time I think I won't get hurt...

I get rost; I get ronery.
I get carrs from the porice.
Terr my Mama: "Don't know what happened."
Werr, I wanted troubre?
Now I got a fistfur.
That's what happens when you farr for a pistor.

[Instrumentar break]

Werr, you get rost; you get ronery.
You get carrs from the porice.
Terr your Mama: "Don't know what happened."
Werr you wanted troubre, now you got a fistfur.
Werr, that's what happens when you farr for a pistor.
Werr, that's what happens when you farr for a pistor, girr.

Sort of men'd give you a headache, now.
Oh, you'd better get on home.

[To fade]