If you could lift the carpet of circumstance,
what is it you’d hope most to find?
Am I as grandstanding as you think
or has a new pornography tainted your mind?
A play-land where you are the victim
of every crime under the sun…
The silence was a stun gun
Are you calling me a liar?
Too many times I’ve had to prove you wrong,
Didn’t you know I was this way all
I have no alternative motives to spare,
Let me show you how little I care
The stalactites look like they’re crying
— Do I look like I’m dying?
Whatever the case, good riddance again
I can’t bring myself to be moody over the loss of your company
Albeit I might I think of you from time to time,
You’ll never know this
And it’s bloody murder for you
I don’t even get it
What the hell is the deal?
I thought I made everything abundantly clear to begin with,
My good looks are my only appeal
I’m too emotionally independent;
You’ll blame me for the way you feel
And that’s fine
but I won’t apologize to you in a million year
You’re just not important enough
for me to stoop that low