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...

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