I make her say ooh, ooh
I make her say ooh

I got the dirty old hands of a drummer in a band
But I never really hit the sticks
I got the sun burned tan of every working man
Who's spent a minute in a ditch
And I ain't gonna try to tell another lie
You never shoulda let me in
'Cause I'm the type of guy who dad won't let inside
To show you where my hands have been

This is now, that was then
You broke my heart, I let you in
This is now, that was then
I fucked around with all your friends
Whoa, whoa, whoa-oh-oh
Whoa, whoa, whoa-oh-oh
This is now, that was then
Forget all about the past
And let's hit it again

I make her say ooh, ooh
I make her say ooh

She's eleven out of ten, got a body with a pin
You could pull it like a hand grenade
And I don't know where she's going but I know where she's been
'Cause it's the only time my bed's been made
And I ain't gonna try to tell another lie
You trip me when you let me in
'Cause I'm the type of guy who drinks until his eyes
Lose sight of what's in front of him

This is now, that was then
You broke my heart, I let you in
This is now, that was then
I fucked around with all your friends
Whoa, whoa, whoa-oh-oh
Whoa, whoa, whoa-oh-oh
This is now, that was then
Forget all about the past
and let's hit it again

She's the portrait of a model
I'm just a picture of a man (man, man, man)
She's got her fingers on a bottle
But I'm drinking from a can
And she's always seeing people
And I'm always on my own
But she's right here begging
Saying, "Take me home"
"Take me home"

This is now, that was then
You broke my heart, I let you in
This is now, that was then
I fucked around with all your friends
Whoa, whoa, whoa-oh-oh
Whoa, whoa, whoa-oh-oh
This is now, that was then
Forget all about the past
and let's hit it again Writer/s: David Katz, Nathaniel Motte, Sam Hollander, Sean Foreman
Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind