Guilty

Would it bother you

To know his hands have been all over me?

And would it bother you

To know I'll run to him next time you leave?

Oh, yeah

When you hit the road

And disappear and leave me here

I'm not sure what you're doin' out there

Or who you're doin' it with

Oh, you're probably at some sweet hotel

With some groupie whore

But what the hell?

Or maybe that's just something I tell myself

When I run my nails down his back

And he kisses me on my neck

He feels me

But it kills me

Such a bittersweet passion pain

I bite my lip not to scream your name

Oh, baby

I feel everything

But guilty

Would it bother you

To know he drinks your Southern Comfort when you're gone?

Oh, yeah, hey

And would it bother you

To know he picks up your guitar and plays your songs?

Oh, yes, he does

And I wear your band t-shirt to bed

Imagine I'm with you instead

But you're not here

No, you're never here

Oh, you're probably in the back of your bus

Satisfying your all night lust

Oh, baby

That's just something I tell myself

When I run my nails down his back

And he kisses me on my neck

He feels me

But it kills me

Such a bittersweet passion pain

I bite my lip not to scream your name

Oh, baby

I feel everything

But guilty

Would it bother you

To know he says he's in love with me?

When I run my nails down his back

And he kisses me on my neck

He feels me

But it kills me

It's a bittersweet passion pain

I bite my lip not to scream your name

Oh baby

I feel everything

But guilty

Oh-oh

Would it bother you, baby?