Fresh Out The Slammer

Album: The Tortured Poets Department (2024)
Charted: 11
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  • Now, pretty baby, I'm running back home to you
    Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to
    (Fresh out the slammer, oh)

    Another summer taking cover, rolling thunder
    He don't understand me
    Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter
    He was with her in dreams

    Gray and blue and fights and tunnels
    Handcuffed to the spell I was under
    For just one hour of sunshine
    Years of labor, locks and ceilings
    In the shade of how he was feeling
    But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

    Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you
    Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to
    (Fresh out the slammer, oh)

    Camera flashes, welcome bashes
    Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge
    As I said in my letters, now that I know better
    I will never lose my baby again

    My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it
    Watch me daily disappearing
    For just one glimpse of his smile
    All those nights you kept me going
    Swirled you into all of my poems
    Now we're at the starting line, I did my time

    Now, pretty baby, I'm running
    To the house where you still wait up, and that porch light gleams
    To the one who says I'm the girl of his American dreams
    And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway
    Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake
    Here, at the park where we used to sit on children's swings
    Wearing imaginary rings

    But it's gonna be alright, I did my time Writer/s: Jack Michael Antonoff, Taylor Swift
    Publisher: Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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