| Candy May, I think I’m dying
|
| Yeah, 'cause I’m frail and I’m tired
|
| And I constantly complain about the pain I’m in
|
| But Candy May, she knows me better, yes, she knows my ways
|
| She has seen me naked, she knows I’m packing heat
|
| She has a way of saying «baby, come to me» complete
|
| She’s my sweet sweet Candy May
|
| Got me stuck and I want to stay
|
| But I never wanted to look sharp
|
| Down the barrel of a broken heart
|
| So I live with a deep regret
|
| Of all I do on the internet
|
| And I’m filled with a dirty white guilt
|
| She’s a brown on her doily frills
|
| She loves me still
|
| Sweetest eyes, so dark and shining
|
| They see a shadow in their vision
|
| Then it fades and then it dies, sweetest eyes
|
| But Candy May, don’t think I’m lying
|
| I got a flavor in my mouth, it never truly goes away
|
| That’s Candy May
|
| So when you see me and Candy May
|
| And we’re walking down the street at a mean pace
|
| And she is crying out «You f’n lonely man»
|
| «You worthless piece of shit»
|
| You all wouldn’t understand
|
| 'Cause Candy May, I know she loves me in her own true way
|
| You call it as you see it, you think you know the score
|
| But you just never had a girl like Candy May before
|
| She’s my sweet sweet Candy May
|
| Got me stuck and I want to stay
|
| But I never wanted to look sharp
|
| Down the barrel of a broken heart
|
| So I live with a deep regret
|
| Of all I do on the internet
|
| And I’m filled with a dirty white guilt
|
| She’s a brown on her doily frills
|
| She’s my sweet sweet Candy May
|
| Got me stuck and I want to stay
|
| But I never wanted to look shocked
|
| Down the barrel of a broken heart
|
| So I live with a deep regret
|
| Of all I do on the internet
|
| And I’m filled with a dirty white guilt
|
| She’s a brown on her doll with frills
|
| She’s my sweet sweet Candy May
|
| Got me stuck and I want to stay
|
| But I never wanted to look sharp
|
| Down the barrel of a broken heart
|
| So I live with a deep regret
|
| Of all I do on the internet
|
| And I’m filled with a dirty white guilt
|
| She’s a brown on her doily frills
|
| She loves me still |