Bad Things To You

[Verse 1]
You said you like your danger
In a broken-in leather coat
I keep my promises crooked
Like the nails in my front porch posts
You smile like gasoline
Beggin’ for a match to move
You think you’re playing fire
But I wrote the rules
[Chorus]
I could do bad things to you
The kind you don’t pray away
Leave my name in every bruise
Where your hands can’t wash the stain
Drag your halo through my room
’til it’s bent and burned clean through
You want the truth?
I wanna do bad things to you
[Verse 2]
I talk like late October
All frostbite and cigarette
You follow every whisper
Like a moth around my breath
You say you’re tired of behaving
Tired of being spared
Baby
Cross that line
I’ll keep you there
[Chorus]
I could do bad things to you
The kind you don’t pray away
Leave my name in every bruise
Where your hands can’t wash the stain
Drag your halo through my room
’til it’s bent and burned clean through
You want the truth?
I wanna do bad things to you
[Bridge]
Lock the door
Kill the light (shh)
Let that pretty conscience fight
Every “no” stuck in your throat
Sounds a whole lot like “don’t stop” tonight (oh)
[Chorus]
I could do bad things to you
The kind you don’t pray away
Trace my sins along your skin
’til you’d curse anyone who saves
Drag your halo through my room
Leave it tangled in my boots
You want the truth?
I’m gonna do bad things to you

rock, Dusty gothic country-rock with male vocals; tremolo baritone guitar pulsing slow and swampy, twangy lead lines answering the vocal. Verses stay low and brooding with close-mic intimacy; chorus widens with slapback, stacked harmonies, and a thunderous floor-tom groove. Spring reverb on guitars, organ pads in the bridge, vocal growls and whispers riding right on the edge., country, male vocals, low, vocal, slow