Bulemia Blues

I got up that morning, just like I always do, in 6:30
She was still putting on her makeup
"I'm sorry, honey," she said
"I hate for you to see me like this
Want some breakfast?"
Poached eggs and shaved legs, just like it always was
I ate my eggs, went to brush my teeth
She was throwing up her [?] muffin jelly just like she always did
Helps her watch her figure, she says
That morning, just as she got down to the dry hills
Something snapped
She dashed out sobbing, flung on her coat, and was gone
I didn't hear from her for days
My little world was blown apart
I begged her to come back to our little home
To our little cat, my little heart
I knew she will someday
It's been six years now, cat is dead
But I still get up every morning at 6:30
Now I eat an Egg McMuffin on the way to work
I guess I'm adjusting, but I still got hope
I saw her the other day at the terrific machine
Poor girl let herself go to hell
She had blimped up to a hundred pounds
And hadn't shaved her legs for days
She said she was feeling good, though, and went into some blabber about self-acceptance and unconditional love
I was glad she'd found some consolation for losing me
And told her she'd always have some place to go
If there was nowhere else
Guess I'm just soft-hearted or something