Three Candles - Kyle Craft

Take it away

I can’t stand to see

You holding him the way you held me

Was bound to taste right

It was bound to be brief

And as for me babe

I guess I’m bound to leave

Fall to the floor

Your stain on my jeans

Three hundred miles between me and Orleans

I’ll think of you babe

I give you my word

I’ll think of you babe while I’m kissing her

Because Leanne cut ties

And Jaybird split town

And Ally says I shouldn’t be hanging around

So what’s there to hope?

And who’s there to please?

And what’s there to love on long nights like these?

Oh who’s there to love on dead long nights like these?

A warm shot of rye

Straight to the head

And three candles lit at the Royal Frenchman

It’s hard to recall just what I said wrong

It’s hard to recall why you wanted me gone

So are you passing out?

Or are you leaning in?

That wasted farewell I’m too drunk to pretend

That you gave him your hand you sweet Southern Belle

But all that you had to give me was hell

Oh all that you had to give me was hell

So take it away

I can’t stand to see

You kissing him like the way you kissed me

He’s bound to taste right

He’s bound to make sense

But he’ll never kiss you the way that I did

No, he’ll never kiss you the way that I did