TROUBLE.

She puts her finger on things she knows will hurt

We disagree when I ain`t spoken a word

She calls an end to what ain`t given a start...

This girl is trouble.

I`ve a guardian angel that`s turned out bad

And glad to see me fall

So my bed of roses is my bed of nails

And we could`ve had it all.

She swares it`s black when she can see that it`s white

An empty room and yes she`ll still start a fight

Give her an inch and she`ll be way out of sight...

This girl is trouble.

You make her coffee and she argues it`s tea

The combat zone comes to her too easily

With her alone you know you`d win world war three...

This girl is trouble.