- Songwriters: Robert Schwartzman
Well, I met this girl on a
Saturday night, Saturday night
Saturday night, Saturday night
Saturday night, Saturday night
She sat there all alone with the
Shirley Temple and a cellular phone
No one to call, no one to ring
'Cause no one at home
The bartender knew her number and name
I grabbed my cell phone and gave her a ring
Wrong number
I guess I've gotta do it the hard way
I walked up to her having seen the future and said
"I'm sorry, sorry for making your life a living hell"
I'm sorry, sorry for making your life a living hell
But that wasn't me, that was Alter Ego
'Cause that wasn't me, that was Johnny Rockets
She was so confused
From her point of view I would be confused too
I was so rude
Oh, what was I thinking?
But, but she dug my hair and new suede shoes so much
She dragged me straight, straight to her room
And I was forgetting what I knew I would do
Two hours later we lay on the bed and I said
"I'm sorry, sorry for making your life a living hell"
Yes I am, I'm sorry, sorry for making your life a living hell
That wasn't me, that was Alter Ego
That wasn't me, that was Johnny Rockets
Take it away
I'm sorry, sorry for making your life a living hell
(I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry)
I'm sorry, sorry for making your life a living hell
(I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry)
I'm sorry, sorry for making your life
I'm sorry, sorry for making your life
I'm sorry, sorry for making your life a living hell
Copyright © Emi Blackwood Music Inc., Majaro Music
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