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i'm tired thinking 'bout
the taste of her lips
they're like the sour grapes
in my fruit salad
she drives a space ship
she drives a monster truck
too much of charm and i'm lying in our dumb luck
i think she's beautiful
i haven't told her yet
maybe i will after probably one more drink
she's got a boyfriend
i heard she hates him
i think i'm dyin' here, i think i'm dyin' here
i'm tired thinking 'bout
a way to look cool
but she sees through me, she knows i'm not a superstar
she's got some issues
but i've got some too
i know she's broken
if she needs a fix i'll be her tool
i'm tired thinking 'bout
the taste of her lips
they're like the sour grapes
in my fruit salad
she drives me crazy, she makes me look dumb
when i get up from staring at her from across the room
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