She's getting' hammered
On Alabama slammers
Three drinks ago, no
He wouldn't stand a chance
He's sipping' whiskey
Feelin' confident and frisky
Writes 'Slow Hand' on a twenty
And slips it to the band
By the end of the first verse they're on the floor
By the end of the song they're out the door
Spirits are up inhibitions are down
Same story's unfolding all over town
From the barroom to the bedroom
The path's weathered and worn
This is how illegitimate children are born
So it's his place or hers
Whichover comes first
They're all the way to second base
In the back of the cab
It's hard to resist that liquored up lust
And it's easy to think it might be love
When
Strangers and slow songs
Barstools and backeast
Lead to bottles and babies
Ask cabbies and barkeeps when
This is how illegitimate children are born