Paula Sommerville - Two-Steppin' on my Last Nerve (Visualizer w/Lyrics in Description)

An old fashioned funny fast paced song I wrote about couples who argue a lot but still love each other through the ups and downs. From my Lake Huron Country Radio album.

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©2025 Paula Sommerville

Lyrics:

Well, he threw his socks near the hamper — said that’s a step in the right direction,
Acts like I charged him with treason,
just for makin’ a small correction.
I’ve got ten pairs of boots in the hallway —,
he says it’s a fashion stampede,
But Lord forbid he give up that shirt with the barbecue grease…,

You’re two-steppin’ on my last nerve,
Spinnin’ in circles, with nothin’ to prove,
Tappin’ our boots on the edge of absurd,
But I’d still rather dance with you,
Than sit it out with someone new,
You drive me mad — yet darlin’, I love your groove,
But…,
You’re two-steppin’ on my very last nerve.

You mean that rag you wore since high school?,
That thing needs to be condemned!,
And I WOULD put my shoes away if your gym bag wasn’t offendin’ my friends,
You burn every burger into charcoal art,
Callin’ it “gourmet flair”,
While you grumble every day,
saying...,
‘Babe, we don’t need more dang cats.’,

He said, “You weren’t hungry,” — when I ate half his fries,
I said, “Maybe if you shared like a grown man, I’d be nice.”
He’s wild.
I’m worse.
Still holdin’ hands, for better or worse…,

You’re two-steppin’ on my last nerve,
Spinnin’ in circles, with nothin’ to prove,
Tappin’ our boots on the edge of absurd,
But I’d still rather dance with you,
Than sit it out with someone new,
You drive me mad — yet darlin’, I love your groove,
But…,
You’re two-steppin’ on my very last nerve.

Let’s hear that fiddle boys!

He leaves his socks right next to the hamper ,
Like they’re scared to fall in,
He rearranges my spice rack,
Sayin’ “bless your heart” with a grin,
He says I’ve claimed the closet,
With my boots and strappy heels,
But his idea of medium rare,
Still sets off fire alarms at meals…,

You’re two-steppin’ on my last nerve,
Spinnin’ in circles, with nothin’ to prove,
Tappin’ our boots on the edge of absurd,
But I’d still rather dance with you,
Than sit it out with someone new,
You drive me mad — yet darlin’, I love your groove,
But…,
You’re two-steppin’ on my very last nerve,

Ooh darlin….
My very last nerve….