With the reception I'm getting from you
I might as well be in Timbuktu
It's a growing feeling of deja vu
All my words you misconstrue
I tried to explain till in the face I'm peacock blue
One of these days your gonna get whats due
And life, on you is gonna chew
And spit you out like rancid stew
Then maybe you will feel bad for what you do
Treating me like a pair of old tennis shoes
Walking on me until your through
An apology is overdue
Don't give me that look you know it's true
With you every thing is a hullabaloo
I think I'll find someone new
With them I'll move to Kallamazo
There my life you can't askew