Rosaline from White Trash by Johnny Paglino

Rosaline, my first cousin
The object of my obsession
It's hard to tell, it's hard to know
But blood is hot, my blood is yours

Rosaline, you're wrong clearly
These party songs aren't real country
But I can't help but smile as you're drinking Bud
As we're mudding in my jacked up truck

Rosaline, it's ok to cry
We might hurt everyone in our lives
But you should be trusted
As far as you can be thrown
Though you're thin as shit
From all that glass you smoke

Rosaline, your Grand Am won't start
Though the engine's cranked and the battery's charged
I just can't seem to fix this, oh
This love should come with a manual
This love is unmanageable
This love, this love

Rosaline
We've been here before
The way I fixed it last time
It would not work anymore

• Rock
• alt-country
• indie rock
• singer-songwriter
• Park City