Well I spin round the room stare at somebody else
But I think that sometimes I embarra** myself
Like running in and out and guessing just when to laugh
Timing all my entrances and talking too fast
Yes I trip over your old words asleep on the mat
Cracking those rancid jokes that always fall flat
Feeling like the sun who rose to find it's Three O'Clock
The sun who rose to greet itself and found it's too hot
Like a pauper's dying daughter
Who's counting what she's got
Like an up and coming actress who's finding she's not
Well your book sure is good always said it would be
and thanks for selling all the world the ins and out's of me
and you never spared a feeling never thought that you would
but when I get to thinkin I still reckon it was good
Like a pauper's dying daughter
Who's counting what she's got
Like an up and coming actress who's finding she's not
Well I spin round the room stare at somebody else
But I think that sometimes I embarra** myself
Like running in and out and guessing just when to laugh
Timing all my entrances and talking too fast
Wooo!