Shirtless, sheetless and sleepless on the edge of your queen-sized bed
Last night I didn't wanna move you cause your tendons were tight
You said I'd be the one you remember as self-obsessed
'Cause every fucking word that I tell you is really self-addressed
Sure you saw me naked but I never took my make-up off
You don't need me, your girlfriend goes cognito no nose mustache on
And plus my eyeballs occupy the sockets like a half-dead doll
So maybe you could kill me off in one of your songs?
'Cause I'm not thrilled about anything
I don't place bets on anything
I'm not thrilled about anything...anything at all...