I don't ask you for too much
You don't expect that much from me
So I figure it's a wash
Quid pro quo and vis a vis
Now this little house is flipping upside down
With superlative hyperbole to spin it around
The ferocity of all this clear and present animosity
Chafing at our greasy parts with dwindling viscosity
Down we go
Hatbox-halo lady lie
Maybe I ask you for too much
And you expect too much from me
Either way it's a lock
We'll revisit this for weeks
Is this at the core of our ubiquitous ambivalence?
Or is it just a symptom of our cosmic insignificance?
Lets mitigate this windfall of emotional extortion
Because this vitriol's a virus of pandemic proportions
Down we go
Hatbox-halo lady lie
I won't ask you for permission
But I'll be begging your forgiveness
Down we go
Hatbox-halo lady lie