I called a friend of mine,
you see I've always scratched her back
you know and she's scratched mine.
What makes me crazy is that
she's always one to take,
she's always on the make.
You gimmie and grab
and turn around and gouge
out my eyes,
you talk real ****
you don't answer any of my whys.
My thousands of whys.
Well so long now,
sorry but I got to go...
Yes so long, it's been a slice,
shaking loose of you is like
putting down a vice.
Golden earrings and pretty bobbles
couldn't clean up your act.
You've walked barefoot across the floor, broken fragments of glass,
everywhere, and you were there,
but, oh so was I.
I was there too
I've given you my very best,
yes I've given you my very best,
and what do I get?
I get treated worse than all of them,
worse than all the rest.
I wish I could remember
if it was a movie or if
I heard it in a dream.
It doesn't matter much now,
Because when
I see you coming
I just want to leave.
Just like Dylan said, "A whole lot of people dying tonight
from the disease of conceit."
I've tried taking you aside
and softly admonishing you,
that ended in a stalemate,
what good did it do..
You wore my Austrailian hat and battered it black and blue.
You took my painting and threw away the frame,
I lend you money
and you drink it away.
I don't talk about drawing a line,
I just do it and
if you're in you're right mind
you won't cross it
unless you really want
the **** to hit the fan.
This conflict, I must confess,
well it can make me cry.
every time you
turn around
you're telling me another lie.
I feel a lot of ambivalence .
I don't want to hear you any more.
Some times I think I want silence,
some times I think I want to even the score.
Man, I am on
cloud nine,
look what anger does,
as if I'm in a fight.
I just get to average,
but by no means normal,
the only normal I have found
is the cycle on a washing machine.
I'm not sinkin' in a hole
that was dug real deep by you,
thinking
this old world is all ****** up
and
you don't want to play the game,
You'd just end up leaving me,
so sad and feeling so full of shame.
Do you love me, let me count the ways,
it's not that I don't care,
it's not that I don't want to be there.
I just don't know any more...
what's that sound
telling me I have fix it,
that I have to
put it right.
Now you're looking
to put me down,
always wanting
to start a fight.
You're acting so abstract,
while with me it's so 'as a matter of fact'.
Knowing no one has even half the answers.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
I called a friend of mine,
you see I've always scratched her back
you know and she's scratched mine.
What makes me crazy is that
she's always one to take,
she's always on the make.
You gimmie and grab
and turn around and gouge
out my eyes,
you talk real ****
you don't answer any of my whys.
My thousands of whys.
Well so long now,
sorry but I got to go...
Yes so long, it's been a slice,
shaking loose of you is like
putting down a vice.
Golden earrings and pretty bobbles
couldn't clean up your act.
You've walked barefoot across the floor, broken fragments of glass,
everywhere, and you were there,
but, oh so was I.
I was there too
I've given you my very best,
yes I've given you my very best,
and what do I get?
I get treated worse than all of them,
worse than all the rest.
I wish I could remember
if it was a movie or if
I heard it in a dream.
It doesn't matter much now,
Because when
I see you coming
I just want to leave.
Just like Dylan said, "A whole lot of people dying tonight
from the disease of conceit."
I've tried taking you aside
and softly admonishing you,
that ended in a stalemate,
what good did it do..
You wore my Austrailian hat and battered it black and blue.
You took my painting and threw away the frame,
I lend you money
and you drink it away.
I don't talk about drawing a line,
I just do it and
if you're in you're right mind
you won't cross it
unless you really want
the **** to hit the fan.
This conflict, I must confess,
well it can make me cry.
every time you
turn around
you're telling me another lie.
I feel a lot of ambivalence .
I don't want to hear you any more.
Some times I think I want silence,
some times I think I want to even the score.
Man, I am on
cloud nine,
look what anger does,
as if I'm in a fight.
I just get to average,
but by no means normal,
the only normal I have found
is the cycle on a washing machine.
I'm not sinkin' in a hole
that was dug real deep by you,
thinking
this old world is all ****** up
and
you don't want to play the game,
You'd just end up leaving me,
so sad and feeling so full of shame.
Do you love me, let me count the ways,
it's not that I don't care,
it's not that I don't want to be there.
I just don't know any more...
what's that sound
telling me I have fix it,
that I have to
put it right.
Now you're looking
to put me down,
always wanting
to start a fight.
You're acting so abstract,
while with me it's so 'as a matter of fact'.
Knowing no one has even half the answers.
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