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!