I can see where you’rre getting at

I can see where you’re getting at

Because I speak that language too

But I prefer to keep myself in ignorant bliss

Because, honey, that’s just what I do.

And I’m delaying my speech as much as I can

Because I know that somewhere in the end

Things will turn out to be just perfectly fine

But how do I get there?

How do we get there?

I’m tripping on my stuttured words

And slipping on my own though up jokes

Because humor was never so sharp as when you’re

In a tough and forced position, is it?

It’s not like I was ever clever enough to come up with

Sad excuses for breathing.

My neon pink nails are reflecting the lights

And I need a serious break from all this nonesense

Who’d ever known I’m such a drama queen?

Mixed signs and missed signals

What’s wrong with the world today?