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Practice Makes Perfect

by Ron Sexsmith

You're 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, the first light hearing you calling out
For your criminal court, then you fled the scene upon being let free
Conversation ensue
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...
Practice makes perfect
Practice makes perfect sense
Practice makes perfect
Practice makes perfect sense to me
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