Sad Theresa
on your front porch swing,
the lights are twinkling bright,
but nobody's home.
Sweet country thing
with your dress hiked up to your knees
waiting on a call
from faith, hope or charity.
Oh, Theresa, can I come over tonight?
Can I come over, come over?
Would your mother say it's alright?
Oh, Theresa, can I come over tonight?
Ballerina on your bedroom door,
well, I know that you've got dreams,
but I've got my own.
Whoa, maybe someday
I'll hit those big city lights,
but I'll never forget your face
on warm summer nights.
Oh, Theresa, can I come over tonight?
Can I come over, come over?
Would your mother say it's alright?
Oh, Theresa, can I come over?
I've always wanted to sing
and I've always wanted to be
somebody's idol, somebody's daydream,
maybe their fantasy.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, Theresa, can I come over tonight?
Can I come over, come over?
Would your mother say it's alright?
Oh, Theresa, can I come over tonight?
Can I come over, come over?
Would your mother say it's alright?
Oh, Theresa, can I come over tonight?
Yeah.