Kenny Chesney. Come Over

I turn the TV off, to turn it on again
Staring at the blades of the fan as it spins around
Counting every crack, the clock is wide awake
Talking to myself, anything to make a sound

I told you I wouldn’t call, I told you I wouldn’t care
But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere
I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder
Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

You