Do me a favor, would you please
Hang up the receiver on me
Before I, before I talk my vocabulary dry
Do me a favor, would you, my Doe
Don't come over later, don't spend *two* days in a row
I know my pre-calculated charm will soon run low
Cold colas to coexist
Hold sodas in both her fists
II'd hoped for a different you
There's comfort in the clamor of cafes
Solace from the abyss of days
II'd hoped for a different you
Still I trace your gaze
But that's stalker praise, and I lack the turn of phrase
Every morning through Ma's twin rose trellises
Grammar, middle, and Lake High
Barber college, through Ma's twin rose trellises
I'd planned to pick for you a rose; my hell, this is
A plan's as close as I'll ever get; my hell, this is
I haven't yet, I haven't yet
Do me a favor, be rational
Save me the labor of the breakup call
Just assume the worst
When the phone don't ring, dismiss me to the hearse