Categories (Criss Darren)

This one’s got a dirty mouth The other’s got a twisted shout The other just got nothing to say This one’s got that purple like fire I like the other better This one’s just got nothing but gray So take the dust off of your boots You’d think she was in cahoots Sketchy baby girl over there Girl you’re acting crazy Lord have mercy! I’m used to it But sometimes I just think you don’t care. Seems like the categories Got nothing to do with you or me With you or me Seems like the ones who love us They don’t even know just what that means That’s how it seems Oooooh, oooooh, ooooh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Oooooh, oh.. Dancing with an angel/demon, brother/sister, mother/heathen Putting all the steps in the groove And nodding your head back and forth, “This song, I kinda love this song,” Pretending that you know all the moves The beat goes faster than even I can handle Take your time just when you can And see that you got caught by the hook Invisible lines cast by a thousand strangers Take your time and hope for danger Exercise and promise a look Seems like the categories Got nothing to do with you or me With you or me Seems like the ones who love us They don’t even know just what that means That’s how it seems I take advantage of all my callings Don’t take no stops at stop signs I get the feeling that I’m still falling In between all the lines that we never made Oooooh, oooooh, ooooh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Oooooh, oh... Seems like the categories Got nothing to do with you or me With you or me Seems like the ones who love us They don’t even know just what that means That’s how it seems How it seems, how it seems Oooooh, oooooh, ooooh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.