Throwing dishes on the floor
Oh, I've had enough
I'd hate to think that I've become a bore and pain
This is such a chore
Oh, that's why I'm gone this late

I called you up, late, on the phone
Oh, but you're not there
And we went down home, we knew all about it
But you say
I'm not your type of guy
Oh, but you're left wondering if thats all I can say

I don't know how
But I don't want to breathe

You're not home but there's nothing wrong
You've lost your phone and your front keys gone
It doesn't matter, I'm coming up the stairs
Oh, please tell me then, what were you doing there?