or
The Black Crowes

Oh good heavens, baby where's my medicine?
I must have left it outside with my etiquette
The undertaker's rule of thumb
It's hard to talk with a novocain tongue

This room smells like hotel illness
The scars I hide are now your business
I can't seem to make hair nor hide of this
No baby love is not a punishment.

Hypnotize by your rotten behavior
This week's fashion is last year's flavor
I got a head full of sermons and a mouth full of spiders
The politics of the world's greatest liar

So tell me baby is it true all those things that they say about you...

Written by ROBINSON, RICH S. / ROBINSON, CHRISTOPHER MARK
Published by Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.