It was a one-in-a-million chance, the way that we met
Now I can't seem to get his smile out of my head
All that tall, dark and handsome African-ess
This morning, I caught myself wondering
If he was too tall for my bed

Oh, now you've got me talking on the phone
Oh, now you've got me writing new songs
What the hell's going on?
I'm doing way too much, that's how I know

I'm in good, good trouble with you
I'm in good, good trouble with you
Just when the winter started getting cold
You came along and you warmed up my bones
I'm in good, good trouble with you

I love to leave my lipstick all over your face
I love to sit around and talk to you
About music all day and every day
Oh, your kiss is the cure to a thousand lonely nights
This morning, I caught myself