Sometimes he stares into her eyes closed while she sleeps
And thinks of how he wants her to be
Stains on her shirt from a night of spilling are filling his head
With thoughts of her wearing nothing but her drinks
Because she would wear them so well
And he needs that taste in his mouth, the taste of her body
She would wear them so well
Coronas and cape coders, those are her poisons of choice
Sometimes he stares into her eyes
And thinks about how much better his bed is with her in it
So suppress the sleep, live the dream
Don't get too s**ed into reality, baby, reality TV