I got about half high So I spent the whole weekend out I got home Monday morning Tore up like a can of kraut My only suit was layin' on the steps I just picked it up and run And I ain't been back there since Well mad yeah she's mad It's back to the doghouse I know from the practice I've had When she's mad I play a dangerous game In the obituary column They've already printed my name She's five feet three And weights about hundred and eight She's the kind of gal don't believe In men a makin' mistakes She's sweet and mighty nice But when she's mad She's got a voice that'll cut through ice Well mad ooh she's mad It's back to the doghouse I know from the practice I've had When she's mad I play a dangerous game In the obituary column They've already printed my name She's got eyes like a cat And she watches every move that I make An alarm clock mind That's ringin' every time that I'm late I'm sorry, sick and all alone But I'll have to stick it out 'Cause it just ain't safe to go home Well mad ooh she's mad It's back to the doghouse I know from the practice I've had When she's mad I play a dangerous game In the obituary column They've already printed my name In the obituary column They've already printed my name In the obituary column They've already printed my name © TOM T. HALL; JOHN D. LENTZ; MORRIS MUSIC INC; UNICHAPPELL MUSIC INC; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com