3 + 1

Honey, he doesn’t love you.
Honey, he doesn’t love you.
Can’t you see the resentment on his face,
the subtle abuse in his tone?
Can’t you hear the truth behind the jokes
when he says he’d rather be alone?
Honey, pookie, poodle, he doesn’t love you.
Sometimes once is all it takes.
Your mother and Jesus hate you.
But me, I haven’t changed.
Maybe you should give me a call.
Give me a call.
I’m still the same old guy you knew in school,
the oldest 18 and so,
so tired of life.
And so, so tired of life.
Your life is ugly and ruthless.
Your mother and Jesus hate you.
But me, I still like you kind of
so why won’t you give me a call?
So I walked through the trees you lined your house with
and I thought about that guy you’re going out with.
And I thought I’d be useful for a change,
so I picked up a rake,
but I couldn’t figure out what to do with it.
So I walked around the gardens in a sorry state
and I looked around the table when I came in late
and I saw all the food piled on my plate
so I picked up my drink,
but I couldn’t figure out where to throw it first.
Oh, give me a call.
I’m still the same old guy you knew in school,
the oldest 18 and so so,
so tired of life when I kiss you,