Go and take a ride to her shop in Grant Park.
You can walk through the door and shove the knife in her heart,
when you tell her that you can't stand the song anymore,
the one you two adopted on the prom dance floor.
You can be a Tom Cruise and make a big scene,
or be like Mcguyver and cut it clean.
Either way there's gonna be blood on the floor,
when you tell her that you don't dig girls anymore.
Anymore.
Here's a funny story 'bout a singer named Jed:
He caught his girlfriend with a woman in bed,
they were watching Loveline with a bottle of wine,
having a party like it's 1999.
So he threw down the movies and he had a heart attack.
He jumped in the ocean, he never swam back.
They stood there naked, except for their socks,
feeling cheaper than a prize in a CrackerJack box.
I don't think Jed's really gonna wanna rock anymore.
Anymore.(I can believe it)[repeat]
Check the exposure, something's wrong with this picture.
I can't see the truth for all of the dirty lines.
Check the exposure something's wrong with this picture.
All in all you're gonna lose your mind.
There's a little story that you're gonna adore,
kinda like the lost scene on the cutting room floor.
It's all fun and games 'til you get a black eye,
you're down in the sewer asking all the rats, why?
You can live and love and lie and cheat if you wish.
But you know that's about as tacky as a satellite dish,
on a hot pink house with a burgundy door,
with cigarette butts all over the floor,
I don't think my stomach's gonna take anymore.
Anymore(I can believe it) [repeat]
Check the exposure, something's wrong with this picture. [repeat]
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