Fallen angel with Texas plates Leaned against me in her denim and lace Foot on the pedal while the red dust settles on a set, her hair in my face I'm a half written song in hanks Cadillac I stole a few demons from that man in black I carry my dreams in a brown paper sack I'll give you my heart just don't give it back in pieces A touch of makers on your lips I love the taste of every kiss Your touch catches like red top matches baby dragging across my skin Take it easy baby hold on to me