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Come Go with Me

de Tori Amos

Don't make me come to Vegas
Don't make me pull you out of his bed
I am vigilant
That it will not be you
On the menu he's serving
Up for his friends

Don't make me come to Vegas
Don't make me pull him out of your head
Athena will attest
That it could be done
And it has been done
And I think that I am up to it

And the Jacaranda tree
She's telling me of the trouble you're in
Just by the way she bends
Remember dancing and wondering
As you were swaying
What kind of woman you'd be
"What will be will be..."
Over my dead body

Slip through your hand
Again and again

My old flame was a jester
And a joker and a dealer of men
They called him The Prince
Prince of black jack's and of women
And of anything that's slipped into his hands

And the Ranches and the Mustangs
And the way you said:
"You can have all this, except for me.
You see, Lady Luck is my mistress
and you'll have to play second to her wish."

And the Jacaranda tree
Is telling me it's not over yet
Just by the way she bends
"If you come breezing through", you said,
"I'll know that it's you by the taste on my lips.
Bet on the desert's kiss."
I could slip through your net
Over my dead body

Slip through your hand
Again and again
Slip through your hand
Again and again

Don't make me come to Vegas
Don't make me come to Vegas
Don't make me come to Vegas

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