When you get home, You won't help me in the kitchen.
So you walk into the living room And I get an idea. I call your name And you come back in and see me there, Shirtless, stirring cookie dough.
We end up on that putrid brown sofa Your arms around my waist You kiss me until my lips are raw, and... After, we lay there with your arms around me And you fall asleep, your breath heavy and slow. You're dreaming now, About that pretty girl from San Fransisco.
I roll over and it wakes you up And we don't know what time it is But I don't care if we're late Because you're warm and you smell so sweet And you kissed my forehead like you did the first time.
I know you wouldn't stop me if I tried to leave And it kills me But I'll always be here with you Even though I know I should be with him With his camel blues and his tight jeans and his argyle sweater.
He's perfect and We both know it. You're nothing and I love you.