Trophy Scars - El Cowboy Rojo lyrics

I left my house at a quarter to four Saw my boy, Sean, at the record store I said "Damn man, it's been way too long" He said, "Hey brother, how it's nice to see ya, Hows your girl, Anna Lucia? Four years with one chick's way too long" "I know this blond her name's Christina She's just your type I'm sure she'd love to meet ya" Ha ha Damn, I couldn't believe it I run my mouth dropped and I tried to feed it The thought could give me an ulcer But the truth of the matter is I'd love to meet her f**, I mean I love Anna Lucia But the touch of another just seems so "whoa whoa" I know I'm better without her What's the use of a name, without a number? Yeah Sean left and said "good luck" Then he jumped into his truck He yelled, "Your secret's safe man, I don't give a f**" "Okay, gimme her number Thought about it, yeah I'd love to meet her I've got the place if she's got the time" I knew Anna's going out on Sunday Staying with her mom till late on Monday I know she won't expect a thing I met Christina at her work on Friday We hit it off and we were both excited I invited her on Sunday for a drink Sunday came quick and so did Christina She shook me harder than Anna Lucia She yelled, and screamed my name Couldn't believe this sin was conceived the culprit was me Christina was sweet, but trite naive, she wasn't for me No doctor's degree, no clean history, no small crooked teeth My precious baby, Anna, if only I could tell ya, I was sorry, it was never worth it After the s**, we cleaned up our mess, then we got dressed Christina said "Please, don't write or call me." I grinned and agreed, Anna arrived on Monday night, with tears in her eyes She said "I ain't your f**in' baby, tell me I am crazy, I know just what happened, hope you're f**ing happy." Get your hands off of my hands, lover I can smell the blood of another Get your hands off of my hands... Lover I didn't need to hear this or that I got a woman's intuition as a matter of fact I can still smell the salt and the s** in your breath Better hit the road, Jack, 'fore I cut you up dead So help me God if I catch you alive You burned me so bad that I can't even cry. Pack up everything that you plan to keep. I'm heading for the bar and I'm having some drinks... Get your hands off of my hands, lover