You and your museum of lovers A precious collection you've housed in your covers My simpleness threatened by my own admission And the bags are much too heavy, in my insecure condition My pregnant mind is fat full with envy again But I still love to wash in your old bathwater Love to think that you couldn't love another I can't help it, you're my kind of man Wanted and adored by attractive women Bountiful selection at your disgression I know I'm diving into my own destruction So why do we choose the boys that are nasty? I don't fit in so why do you want me? I know I can't tame you, but I just keep trying 'Cause I love to wash in your old bathwater Love to think that you couldn't love another On your list with all your other women But I still love to wash in your old bathwater You make me feel like I couldn't love another I can't help it, you're my kind of man Whoo-ooo Whoo-oo, whoo-oo Why do the good girls always want the bad boys? So I pacify problems with kisses and cuddles Diligently doubtful through all kinds of trouble Then I find myself choking on all my contradictions 'Cause I still love to wash in your old bathwater Love to think that you couldn't love another Share a toothbrush, you're my kind of man I still love to wash in your old bath water Make me feel like I couldn't love another I can't help it, you're my kind of man Whoo-oo, doo-oo Whoo-doo, doo-oo No I can't help myself, I can't help myself I still love to wash in your old bathwater Ooh, oo-ooh