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Hey, I don't feel so good lately. |
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I wake up with the thought of you penetrating my head. |
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Instead, I wanna fill my bed with thoughts of us joined at the heart like we were at the start. |
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You left me talking to myself, underneath the weather. |
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No good-bye kiss or long love letter. |
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Don't orchestrate my life, just be-bop. |
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Must I take pills for stability? |
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With you I can hardly speak. |
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Must I confess to the stress that I feel? |
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(yes, you must.) |
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You take me right to the edge. |
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You take me right to the edge. |
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I need some more of your time. |
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I'm not trying to be funny! |
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If you think I'm a joke you got another thing coming. |
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When your orders came by phone today... I'm not alone. |
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I heard you, but what did you say? |
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So now you're talking to yourself. |
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Do ya like it? |
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Well, do you like it any better? |
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Don't orchestrate my life, just be-bop. |
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If you are so sophisticated, why am I still denigrated when I should be venerated? |
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I'm sick and tired of repudiation where upon your orchestration leads to endless complication and causes me great consternation. |
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Cha cha cha! |
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You love to dance, but you maintain you're not romantic. |
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Bla bla bla! |
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You love to talk, but I'm still out here stranded. |
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La la la! |
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You love to sing, but don't you know a different key? |
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Ha ha ha! |
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If I'm your last laugh, are you sure the joke's on me? |
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You don't have to "hubby love" me. |
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Don't try to chubby shove me. |
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You don't have to tell me I'm your ultimate honey. |
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Medicinal value, na na natural cure, don't analyze the 98% pure. |
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Value for value with no medicinal taste. |
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He should had a license for that thing below his waist. |
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Don't ya know the leash laws? |
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Sittin' on a seesaw, hanging out with bull dogs and assorted pit frogs. |
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Put him down if ya don't know where he's been. |
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Pick him up if he's looking too thin. |
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Don't inhale or derail or curtail. |
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My train of thoughts overwrought, can't be bought. |
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You got me talkin' to myself, sweating in my sweater, underneath the weather. |
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No good-bye kiss or long love letter. |
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Don't orchestrate my life, just be-bop... |
