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