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Tender by Jon Henry, Baltimore United States
Well my baby's got my number.
Got me wrapped around her thumb.
So I asked her what I could do, to make her true; and she just smiled and said, boy your best ain't good enough.
Well my loving ain't that tender.
It's been broke too much before.
So I called her late one night, to start a fight; and she just laughed and said, boy you ain't what I'm looking for.
I hold my place, I hold my tongue,
I hold my breath and the smoke in my lungs.
But you ain't got time, darling that ain't right, give me your best and I'll put up a fight.
Well she knows how much it hurts me.
Keeps me down and out all night.
I try to hide my shame, to mask the pain; So I just smiled and said girl, I ain't got your heart in mind.
Well she's down here running circles.
Thought she'd bring me to my knees.
So she smiled at me so coy, said come on boy; but I just laughed and said, girl you can't give me what I need.
You hide your face, you hide your place,
You hide from the questions that pulled you from grace.
But I ain't got time, darling don't you cry,
It's over now but there's reason to fight.
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