[Verse 1]
You’ve saved me a place in a circle made of ashes
Making up favors in the bottoms of Easter baskets
But a quiet kiss on the cheek is all I’ll get
You say that it’s hoes before bros in Pontiac
It’s this couch that I’m sleeping on

[Verse 2]
Familiar revolver of patterned behavior
I’ve got a bottomless pocket of well thought-out compliments
And an admirable hunger for everything in your fridge
But it’s this couch I’ll be sleeping on
It’s this couch I’ll be sleeping on