Tell her this: I dont like to kiss
I know that its something Ill miss
Tell her that Ill never be late
As long as shell be there to wait for me
Tell her this: my tongues in a twist
I ran through a confident fist
Tell her that the Gypsy was real
December is what makes the toe cramps and stomachaches hard to heal
And it dont mean a thing
If you cant try to be
What youre always expecting from me
Tell her this: Ill never be rich
And Christmas was always a bitch
Tell her that I still feel the same
But in between me and you, we see things better
And it dont mean a thing
If you cant try to be
What youre always expecting from me
Still in my underwear watching some reruns of anything
I cant forget
New York is still on my mind but Im trapped here in Tennessee
Still with regrets
Tell her this: I dont like to kiss
I know that its something Ill miss
And it dont mean a thing
If you cant try to be
What youre always expecting from me
No it dont mean a thing
If you cant try to be
What youre always expecting from me