Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?
~ “Bathwater” ~ No Doubt

I’m drawn to them. Bad boys. They call to me. It’s that opposite of me. It’s that raw, in-your-face, take-me-somewhere-new energy that they bring. They know how to push my buttons. They know how to get under my skin.

It’s not just any old bad boy, though. I’m particular. It’s a subtleness that I crave. I want to see that dark gleam in his eyes. I want to feel that darkness just under the surface. I want to know that with one look, one word, I’ll feel it.

They seem to be so much like me on the surface. They love arts and literature. They love the outdoors and little kids. They like to read and they like to play.

Underneath, though, it’s different. There is a devil there that the good girl in me delights in. There is a resident evil that knows how to crawl into my head and get at me.

It’s a cat and mouse game, predator and prey.

—

Bathwater
No Doubt

Oh yes I’m guilty
You and your museum of lovers
The 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 discretion
I know I’m diving into my own destruction

So why do we choose the boys that are naughty?
I don’t fit in so why do you want me?
And 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
I’m 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

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 bathwater
Make me feel like I couldn’t love another
I can’t help it…you’re my kind of man

No I can’t help myself
I can’t help myself
I still love to wash in your old bathwater