Pants, lie on the floor
My girlfriend, well, she walks through the door
In the dark I’m not a good listener
My ears close at the sound of the door swinging shut
Won’t you put your new shirt on?
We’ll go out
We’ll drive around and around
I’m a beast for hire
I don’t feel smart
No, I don’t feel smart anymore
I’m a beast in a middle school choir
I don’t sing straight
No, I don’t even try anymore