Из альбома: Eight Little Songs
How many times can you read that letter, and what do you need it for?
Can't you see that the salutation has no meaning anymore?
And you can't resurrect the body and the closing's out of date
And if you stumble upon an answer it will always be too late--
You better take that letter, put it in the boyfriend box
Are you still staring at that picture of someone who doesn't care,
Just like you're looking through a window at a world that isn't there?
If you're trying to reconstruct it, it will only fall apart
'Cause there's really nothing in it but your late, great heart--
You better take that picture, put it in the boyfriend box
Ooh, la, la ooh, la, la ooh, la, la
There's something dark and dead
Buried in your head and underneath your bed
You're still tempted to believe the world is true
You even almost do
Your little world is a little empty, but the memories never stop
Organizing themselves in layers, the most recent at the top
If you need to go any deeper, you can dig them out again,
Just in case you need to be reminded of what a fool you've been--
You better take those memories put them in the boyfriend box
Ooh, la, la: take those letters, put them in the boyfriend box