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You got your shoes. Hang up your wings, stack up the chairs, roll up the rug saver, other things that sobriety brings. Draining the last from a jug. But when I hit the bottle, there's no telling what I'll do to something deep inside me wants to turn you black and blue. I can't resist you. I can't wait to twist your loving arms to you. Could pitch you hate. Beat me in the kitchen and I'll beat you in the hall. There's nothing I love better than a. Free for all to take your pretty neck and see which way it bends. But when it is all over, we will still be friends with a white flag. Put away the pistol. Too many people just can't get kissed. But if there's not that I can do to make a man's baby, hope you don't murder me. So was it all right, or was it OK? I'll make it all up to you someday. You didn't have to laugh that way. Oh no, you didn't have to laugh that way. Wave a white flag. Put away with a pistol. Too many people just can't get kissed. But if there's nothing I can do to make amends, baby, hope you d...