This is a man who walks around
With his head held high but his pants are falling down.
And this is a man who understands
The red in his eye and the leanness of his purse.
And this is a girl who walks around
And all the other girls hate her
And this is a time I think your're fine.
The pet lobster that I bought for you
Is screaming in a pot upon your stove.
Go ahead and tell me what year you bought your first six-string guitar
I don't mind, it's alright.
Turn me upside-down and let the blood run down
Like the colors of a rose on your boutonniere.
She called me on the telephone after she put her headbone through the wall
Describing my face as it melted in the photographs she had taken of me and her in much better years.
If you hurt my heart it also hurts for you
'Cause the only form of justice in your conscience robbing you of sleep.
It's good to let you use me 'cause I've used you so many times before.