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Shirtless, sheetless and sleepless on the edge of your queen-sized bed, Last night I didn't wanna move you cause your tendons were tight, You said I'd be the one you remember as self-obsessed, 'Cause every fucking word that I tell you is really self-addressed, Sure you saw me naked but I never took my make-up off, You don't need me, your girlfriend goes cognito no nose mustache on, And plus my eyeballs occupy the sockets like a half-dead doll, So maybe you could kill me off in one of your songs? 'Cause I'm not thrilled about anything, I don't place bets on anything, I'm not thrilled about anything...anything at all... From Letras Mania