Öone of rockís most astute singer-songwriters of the
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John Hiatt Page
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The Odds Of Loving You
written by John Hiatt

I caught you doing it and crying
You had to ruin it, I was up on my high horse
Taking notes and naming names
You were sniffling and a snuffling
Fogging up your window panes
I rode in on my high horse
Ran off like a dog in shame

Got ways of dealing with me, I
I donít like feeling
But you keep me on the front stove
Right before I blow my top
Well you scold me and you schooled me
Baby donít you ever stop

Seven nights of heaven
Eleven days of who shot who
Seven come eleven
I like the odds of loving you

I like the gravy, but you
You want to save me from myself
And I keep thinking of all the nights I spend alone
Well, Iím stubborn and Iím stupid
Baby would you please come home?


I like the odds of loving you, baby
I like the odds of loving you