So why would you leave me waiting outside the station?

When it was like minus 4 degrees and I

I get what you're saying.

I just really don't want to hear it right now.

Can you shut up for like once in your life?

Listen to me.

I took your nice words of advice about how you think I'm going to die lucky if I turn 33.

Okay, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney, I'm not skinny and I pull a Britney every other week.

But cut me some slack.

Who do you want me to be?

Cause I'm too messy and then I'm too fucking clean.

You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I've been.

And I'm too perfect till I open my big mouth.

I want to be me, is that not allowed?

And I'm too clever and then I'm too fucking dumb.

You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month.

And I'm too perfect till I show you that I'm not.

A thousand people I could be for you.

When you hate the fucking lot.

You hate the fucking lot.

You hate the fucking lot.

It's taking you ages, you still don't get the hints.

I'm not asking for pages, but one text or two would be nice.

And please don't pull those faces.

When I went out walking miles all day, it's just one bottle of wine or two.

But hey, you can't even talk, you smoke weed just to help you sleep and why you out getting stoned at 4:00?

And then you come home to me and don't say hello, cause I got high again.

And forgot to pull my clothes.

Cause I'm too messy and then I'm too fucking clean.

You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I've been.

And I'm too perfect till I open my big mouth.

I want to be me, is that not allowed?

And I'm too clever and then I'm too fucking dumb.

You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month.

And I'm too perfect till I show you that I'm not a thousand people I could be for you.

When you hate the fucking lot.

You hate the fucking mood.

You hate the fucking mood.

Cause I'm too messy and then I'm too fucking clean.

You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I've been.

And I'm too perfect till I open my big mouth.

I want to be me, is that not allowed?

And I'm too clever and then I'm too fucking dumb.

You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month.

And I'm too perfect till I show you that I'm not.

A thousand people I could be for you when you hate the fucking lot.

You hate the fucking lot.

You hate the fucking lot.