Practice Makes Perfect

So sweet I can hardly speak due

To such trauma in my teeth

But your body language is telling me

That you're worth the pain

So weak I can hardly keep shaky

Legs holding up my feet

But your body language is telling me

That I'm not to blame

Practice makes perfect

Practice makes perfect sense

I've become what a mother

Wouldn't want in a son

And I have done a few things I regret

But practice makes perfect

Practice makes perfect sense to me

Wake up at first light hearing you calling out

For your criminal clothing that fled the

Scene upon being ripped free

Conversation ensued

And I wanna do so many things to you

Sip after sip' you insist you're a hit

Sip after sip' yeah I swear I can feel it

Practice makes perfect

Practice makes perfect sense

I've become what a mother

Wouldn't want in a son

And I have done a few things I regret

I've become what a mother

Wouldn't want in a son

And I have done

What a mother wouldn't want

What a mother wouldn't want in a son

Practice makes perfect

Practice makes perfect sense

Practice makes perfect

Practice makes perfect sense

I've become what a mother

Wouldn't want in a son

And I have done a few things I regret

I've become what a mother

Wouldn't want in a son

And I have done

What a mother wouldn't want

What a mother wouldn't want in a son

Practice makes perfect

Practice makes perfect sense

Practice makes perfect

Practice makes perfect sense to me