Blame it on the cheap cologne Blame it on the saxophone Blame it on the way she moves Like she's got nothing left to lose I was doing fine on my own Till the cheap cologne She walked in like a Friday night Heels too tall and the dress too tight I smell trouble and gasoline Best kind of wrong I've ever seen She said hey you look like a bad idea Well maybe I am But at least I'm honest about the mess Blame it on the cheap cologne Blame it on the saxophone Blame it on the way she moves Like she's got nothing left to lose I was doing fine on my own Till the cheap cologne Two drinks deep The band kicks in with something slow and criminal She grabs my hand — crooked grin — through the crowd Bass so thick you feel it in your teeth I should leave but my feet don't agree Well maybe they're right Some trouble's worth the trouble on a Saturday night Blame it on the cheap cologne Blame it on the saxophone Blame it on the way we moved Like we had nothing left to prove I was doing fine all alone Till the cheap cologne I don't need saving I don't need much Just a little bit of someone's reckless touch Blame it on the cheap cologne Blame it on the saxophone Blame it on this whole damn night That turned out feeling just about right I was doing fine on my own That cheap cologne...
