Weather For Tennis Lyrics – Hilary Duff

Read the full Weather For Tennis lyrics by Hilary Duff from the album luck… or something (Dirty Martini Edition) along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Hilary Duff’s music, you can also explore CATastrophe, another song by Hilary Duff.

[Verse 1]
I’m a seasoned apologist
For the people who I love
I’m an amateur psychologist
Key to everyone’s handcuffs

[Pre-Chorus]
Keep the peace, ’cause I’m a kid of divorce
And you’re the starter of wars
And there’s no winning in yours
So I call to say I’m sorry, of course
But how I won’t anymore

And put the ball in your court
No

[Chorus]
If it ain’t the weather for tennis then, guess we can argue until dinner time
You calling me bats*it is the fastest antibiotic for thinking you’re different this time
Oh-oh, oh
If you let me finish a sentence then then we can bump our heads and drink some wine
Fight over semantics and handpick which hill you’re willing to die on until the next time
Oh-oh, oh

[Verse 2]
You’re a mouthful of inconsistencies, no one’s ever made sense of
I can know it’s all insecurity and then still take it personal
Why do I care this much?

[Chorus]
If it ain’t the weather for tennis then, guess we can argue until dinner time
You calling me bats*it is the fastest antibiotic for thinking you’re different this time
Oh-oh, oh
If you let me finish a sentence then then we can bump our heads and drink some wine
Fight over semantics and handpick which hill you’re willing to die on until the next time
Oh-oh, oh
It ain’t the weather for tennis

[Bridge]
Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh
I don’t understand going over to the neighbor’s to drink cocktails with your pinky up
And I’m tired of believing the better will come later
Think it’s time I should rip the band-aid off

[Pre-Chorus]
But I keep the peace cause I’m a kid of divorce
And you’re the starter of wars and there’s no winning in yours

[Chorus]
If it ain’t the weather for tennis then, guess we can argue until dinner time
You calling me bats*it is the fastest antibiotic for thinking you’re different this time
Oh-oh, oh
If you let me finish a sentence then then we can bump our heads and drink some wine
Fight over semantics and handpick which hill you’re willing to die on until the next time
It ain’t the weather for tennis