Oh God

It's getting crowded in here, I pick the skin off my lips
I pick the straw out my drink, I put my hands on her hips
It's getting partier and I've been dancing for hours
If only the girls in here could hear me play piano

I gave myself a month of high productivity
And I stole a line from Nick Cave about her waving at me
I stole a line from O.M. about wires under the sea
I messaged every girl who had ever seemed into me
I messaged every girl who's born in the same year as me
I was born in the morning, but I died when she called me up
At 9 A.M. her time, she checks my Facebook every night

I can't sing like your husband, I can't sing like your cuckold
I can't sing Winterreise or ILYH either
I was born in the morning, but she was born in Thailand
Now I can't stop my body, but she can't stop hers either