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 is 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

Oh-oh-oh, ooh
Oh-oh-oh, ooh

Slip through your hand
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 hood prince
A prince of black jacks and of women
And of anything that's slipped into his lands

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 breezin' through"
You said "I'll know that it's you by the taste on my lips
Bet on the deserts kiss"
I could slip through your net
"Over my dead body"

Oh-oh-oh, ooh
Oh-oh-oh, ooh

Slip through your hand
Slip through your hand again and again

Oh-oh-oh, ooh
Oh-oh-oh, ooh

Slip through your hand
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
Hmm

Copyright: Downtown Music Publishing
Writer(s): Tori Ellen Amos