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I won't send roses |
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Or hold the door |
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I won't remember |
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Which dress you wore |
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My heart is too much in control |
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The lack of romance in my soul |
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Will turn you grey, kid |
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So stay away, kid |
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Forget my shoulder |
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When you're in need |
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Forgetting birthdays |
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Is guaranteed |
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And should I love you, you would be |
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The last to know |
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I won't send roses |
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And roses suit you so |
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My pace is frantic |
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My temper's cross |
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With words romantic |
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I'm at a loss |
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I'd be the first one to agree |
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That I'm preoccupied with me |
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And it's inbred, kid |
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So keep your head, kid |
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In me you'll find things |
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Like guts and nerve |
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But not the kind of things |
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That you deserve |
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And so while there's a fighting chance |
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Just turn and go |
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I won't send roses |
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And roses suit you so. |
