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...