Sometimes I can be up like that, when I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be down like that, when I don’t cross myself with you I’m dysmorphic in doses Imagine trying to Shit out Twelve red roses It’s how I do but not everybody knows it. Imagine how I’d feel to be called a promotionalist, a mitt man, an emotionalist. When I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be up like that, when I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be down like that, when I don’t cross myself with you It’s some kind Psychosis, don’t what you call it, oneness might be the closest. A psychotropic segment so tasteless, it tastes sweet. And then it changes, When I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be up like that, when I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be down like that, when I don’t cross myself with you
It's a Tuesday night and I can't be With the people that I love tonight Left me alone and I can't forgive them I guess I'll be on my own
I tried to see it their way I tried to be alone I tried to do my own thing But the trouble with your own thing Is you end up on your own
It's a Tuesday night and again I seem To be on my own for the second night in a row Simple lesson here is to try and find a friend To try and find a friend To try and find a friend
Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?
It's a Tuesday night and I can't be With the people that I love tonight Left me alone and I can't forgive them I guess I'll be on my own
Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?
I tried to see it their way I tried to be alone I tried to do my own thing But the trouble with your own thing Is you end up on your own
It's a Tuesday night and I can't be With the people that I love tonight Left me alone and I can't forgive them I guess I'll be on my own
I tried to see it their way I tried to be alone I tried to do my own thing But the trouble with your own thing Is you end up on your own
It's a Tuesday night and again I seem To be on my own for the second night in a row Simple lesson here is to try and find a friend To try and find a friend To try and find a friend
Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?
It's a Tuesday night and I can't be With the people that I love tonight Left me alone and I can't forgive them I guess I'll be on my own
Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?
I tried to see it their way I tried to be alone I tried to do my own thing But the trouble with your own thing Is you end up on your own
Sometimes I can be up like that, when I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be down like that, when I don’t cross myself with you I’m dysmorphic in doses Imagine trying to Shit out Twelve red roses It’s how I do but not everybody knows it. Imagine how I’d feel to be called a promotionalist, a mitt man, an emotionalist. When I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be up like that, when I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be down like that, when I don’t cross myself with you It’s some kind Psychosis, don’t what you call it, oneness might be the closest. A psychotropic segment so tasteless, it tastes sweet. And then it changes, When I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be up like that, when I don’t cross myself with you Sometimes I can be down like that, when I don’t cross myself with you