He shoots... He misses
He shoots... He misses
He shoots... He tagged me.
*******.

I've been expecting you
I've also been avoiding you
But what could I do when I knew that your aim was true?

That's just Cupid

I must confess, more or less, that I'm back in this mess with this little black cloud in a dress.

Walking all over me, running rings around me. Stamping everywhere that you breathe
Bob says "it's good to talk", the old man says "don't be a grass".
I don't know which one to believe.

That's just stupid.

So we decide to talk but it doesn't last long
Soon enough we're shouting. At least the passion isn't gone.

As I fantasize and fight to rationalize
You exercise your right to exorcise.
Honeymoon is over, we got work in the morning.

But honey is still honey, and a bee is still a bee.
So why's she acting like a wasp?! There's stings all over me.

So I mentioned before that I'm back in this mess, but it's my mess and I'll tidy it up alone.
Well of course you will it's your ****** fault. That's it, I'm turning off my phone.