Interpret:

Waylon Jennings

Album:

Closing In On The Fire

She don't like to hear me sing
 She don't want no diamond ring
 She don't want to drive my car
 She won't let me go that far


She don't like the way I look
 She don't like the things I cook
 She don't like the way I play
 She don't like the things I say


Oh, the games we play
 She's too good for me
 She's too good for me


She don't like the jokes I make
 She don't like the drugs I take
 She don't like the friends I got
 She don't like my friends a lot


She don't like the clothes I wear
 She don't like the way I stare
 She don't like the tales I tell
 She don't like the way I smell


Oh, the games we play
 She's too good for me
 She's too good for me


Would I prefer him if he washed himself more often than he does?
 Would I prefer him if he took me to an opera?
 Because he thought I'd fall for him
 This phony perfect man, he'll always be my [?]


She don't wanna meet my folks
 She don't wanna hear my jokes
 She don't like to fix my tie
 She don't even wanna try


She don't like the books I read
 She don't like the way I feed
 She don't wanna save my life
 She don't wanna be my wife


Oh, the games we play
 She's too good for me
 She's too good for me


She's too good for me
 She's too good for me
 She's too good for me
 She's too good for me