| I guess I met the devil, but I sure didn’t know no better
|
| You were kool as hell like e-mail, but still timeless like a letter
|
| As I sit and I stare at the satanic glare, on the glass frame in front of your
|
| face
|
| You’re alone on my shelf, yelling, «look at yourself»
|
| I feel like Bobby Brady breaking the vase
|
| But now you’re all screwed up
|
| You’re so yesterday
|
| Miles away
|
| Promised myself on new years day
|
| I’d take a bath today
|
| And wash you away
|
| As all of your little blonde hairs go down the drain
|
| Your sister called me yesterday to tell me I was a loser
|
| At least I haven’t lost my mind, and at least I’m not a boozer
|
| As I tried to heed to your wants and your needs
|
| You were solemnly lost in space
|
| So keep reading your books on «how to give dirtly looks»
|
| Everytime I should be put in my place
|
| Now you’re all screwed up
|
| You’re so yesterday
|
| Miles away
|
| Promised myself on new years day
|
| I’d take a bath today
|
| And wash you away
|
| As all of your little blonde hairs go down the drain
|
| I guess I met the devil, but I sure didn’t know no better
|
| You were cool as hell like e-mail, but still timeless like a letter
|
| You’re so yesterday
|
| Miles away
|
| Promised myself on new years day
|
| I’d take a bath today
|
| And wash you away
|
| As all of your little blonde hairs go down the drain |