Yes he walked along the pier,
trying pathetically to squeeze out a tear,
understandably you see,
I try too hard to please (way too hard).
Now that winter's come and gone,
we wonder what the fuck went wrong.
I'm always missing things I need,
an 80's love song and a bottle of crap.
Oh, my angel can't you see,
writing a song don't take much....
evidently.
By now he thinks he knows them well,
beneath the layers of shit you never can tell.
Oh, they're staring at my shoes,
you smile and say `honey I have absolutely nothing to lose`.
Oh, my angel can't you see,
writing a song don't take much,
not much at all.
My aching heart you can't conceive,
but I don't need...
your emotional crutches.
Do you know why?...
Because they're so predictable.
That's when you lost me,
that's when you lost me,
the summer of '83.
That's when you lost me,
that's when you lost me,
the summer of '83.
That's when you lost me,
that's when you lost me,
the summer of '83.
That's when you lost me,
that's when you lost me,
the summer of '83.
Now look at me, oh I'm so pretty,
yeah.
You're such a big man.
You're such a big man.
You're such a big man.
You're such a big!
