Stripped Down
Butch Walker / Michael Trent
I wrote this down to make it sing just like a song
A little part of me is hating where I've gone
The living room disheveled, dishes piled up high
Your naked silhouette contrasting in the light
It's You...
It's You...
Pull of with guilt from a confusing kiss goodnight
I drive with a cell phone burning as you cry yourself to sleep all night
This parking lot is my best friend as it holds me while I stare
I can see my breath, I can taste your shoulder, it's something in the air
It's You...
It's You...
This song is just a stripped down version give or take a verse
Wanna spare us all the details if it only makes things worse
Oh...
Oh...
Oh...
Ah...