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lirik lagu lift me up – bruce mcculloch

when i met you in that airport bar, brown shoes, brown suit, brown tie, black socks, vodka and clamato juice in your gruff hand, i thought to myself “wow, what a looker.”

when i looked up and saw you standin’ there, fixin’ that jukebox, workin’ hard, scruffy clothes, all hungry like a mule, jeez, you look like a bike courier. and i thought to myself:

lift me up, don’t f-ck me over
lift me up, don’t hurt me, sweetie
lift me up, don’t f-ck me over
lift me up, don’t steal my wallet

now i know i’ll never be alone
because you’re only (only) lonely (lonely) lonely (lonely)

i’ve been hurt
i’ve been to trade school
i know i’m not much
i know you’re married
but if you go, will you leave your key on the counter?

and if you come on up to 3a, please know that as you come to play
what game i really, really, really, really need is for you, you, you to

lift me up, don’t f-ck me over
lift me up, don’t hurt me, sweetie
lift me up, don’t f-ck me over
don’t have s-x then get real creepy

now i know i’ll never be alone
until the morning (morning) morning (morning) morning (morning)

when i was in college, christ, that was… that was 20 years ago. god, almost 30 now. i was pretty fit; my friends called me “skeeter”, which seems sort of stupid now, but at the time it wasn’t, trust me. we used to get drunk and take the guys’ cars apart and put them together in other places. it was a h-ll of a lot of fun. oh, my flight’s been delayed. boy, you can’t trust airlines. i’m a salesman and, um… i know this sounds stupid, i’ve never told this to anybody before but, uh… sometimes i’ll just sit there in my car and i say “oh, um, if i sold x amount of units over the next 10 or 20 years, how much would i make? and if i sold y amounts of units over the next 10 or 20 years, how much would i make?” sometimes i just wonder… if it all could have been different

whoa, this is my last call of the day. it’s weird… jukeboxes are like celebrity deaths: seems like three go at once. it’s either too dead or too crazy with this job. you know, some people drive around and sing to their radio and when someone looks at them, they get embar-ssed. i don’t. when someone looks over and i’m driving my truck and i’m singing “she’s got legs, she knows how to use ’em” i don’t get embar-ssed. god, i just sing louder. i have a sh-tload of fun. my best friend’s married and my last three girlfriends have all been the same age. sometimes when i get drunk, i wonder… if it all could have been different

lift me up, don’t f-ck me over
lift me up, don’t hurt me, sweetie
lift me up, don’t f-ck me over
don’t have s-x and then get creepy

now i know, i know you even though
i don’t really know your name (know your name) know your name (know your name) know your name
if you’ll only lift me up

- bruce mcculloch

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