What's up with me
Would you believe
I'm not exactly what I'm supposed to be
A grand cliche on holiday
From what I read I guess a dead giveaway
A reluctant dilettante
With no favorite work of art
Or beloved poem that I wrote in rome or somewhere
I get every lesson a la carte
And a purple heart starved for air
Je parle francais while I'm away
Though I never have a thing to say
What's up with me complatency
Far too obvious for you to agree
An idiot savant wondering if he's dumb or smart
Struck by cupid's arrow
Or a poison dart filled with fear and how
Everything might fall apart
Ending at the start insincere
What's up with me
Born a scorpio
My deviations on display
Well I feel all wrong though I'm a-okay (so they say...)
I know better than to act this way
Hell I put you on touche
What's up with me
Champs elysee
Suddenly she's there
Telling me that I'm to blame
Je suis content
Getting what I want
Though I whisper the wrong name
Au revoir
No small faux pas
Thinking of you
