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Cory Branan
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You Got Through
I had nothing when I walked in here
Pocket full of fire and a killer idea
Still had nothing when you walked in
Looking like an Elmore heroine
The air was wet,
Clothes was too
I got the room key
And we got through
We got through
Yeah, we got through
When the last asshole that rented this room
Set the alarm for the crack of noon
And you doused that thing with your flat champagne
I felt a little love in my jugular vein
And the air was sticky-sweet,
You was too
The walls got paper thin
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And we got through
We got through
Yeah, we got through
I knew better than to cross that line
But I'll try anything seven, eight times
It was love all the sudden it was love I cried
But love is a son of a bitch one side
And it was nothing much to you
Could've been something
But you got through
You got through
Yeah, you got through
I had nothing when I walked in here
Pocket full of fire and a killer idea
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