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 doing out there or who you're doing 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
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 at the back of your bus, satisfying you all night long
But 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 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
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, yeah