歌词
Lord, have mercy...
I'm tired of meeting you in secret places
Three or four times a week.
Tired of being introduced as your cousin
To your suspicious friends that we sometimes meet.
I'm tired of waking up in the morning, baby,
Feeling guilty and ashamed.
Tired of checking into cheap motel rooms
Under false and fictitious names.
I don't have to be a scholar,
Or have a Master degree.
I don't have a diploma
Or a Ph.D.
But there's one thing I know, and baby that's
Three into two won't go.
Three into two won't go.
I drive by your house late at night
Just to see if your old man's car's at home.
I'm tired of calling and hanging up, baby,
When a man answer the telephone
(I believe you know what I'm talking about.)
Tired of watching the clock while we're gettin' it on.
(Gettin' it on.)
Half doing my job so we can beat him back home.
One more thing, baby, that's on my mind.
You're carrying a baby. Is it his or mine?
I know I'm gonna miss (I know I'm gonna miss)
What I never really had,
But too much of a good thing
Can also be bad
And there's one thing I know, baby, and that's
Three into two won't go.
Three into two won't go.
Baby! (Three into two won't go.)
Somebody's gonna get hurt! (Three into two won't go.)
As much as I love and wanna be with you, I got to quit you.
(Three into two won't go.)
Won't go. (Three into two won't go.)
I'm here to tell you that three into two won't go.
(Three into two won't go.)
Won't go. (Three into two won't go.)
Won't go, baby...
