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Wasted on You

de Robert Francis

Sugar on the highway,
Something 'bout he way she moved
Made it worth my staying there.
I might have been a bit abused.

Not a girl in the city reminds me of you.
Not a girl in the city reminds me of you.
Not a girl in the city reminds me that you go home, all alone.

And no one knows wher you came from.


Man she was a sweet machine.
Coffee smokes out on my jeans.
Slid across the bed like gasoline.
Burned right, never kept it clean.

Not a girl in the city reminds me of you.
Not a girl in the city reminds me of you.
Not a girl in the city reminds me that you go home, all alone.

And no one knows wher you came from.

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