I guess that my first love's mom was right, yeah I'm a bit obsessive.
and my next girl she didn't waste her time I should've been more aggressive.
The next one we all know well we showed how love can look like Hell.
I wasted her and she ruined me, till finally we both got free;
now to my surprise I find myself acting like her, hating my wealth,
listening to country tunes, and self absorbed with selfish blues.
But if I'm gonna be the product of these past and present “me”s
I hope it's clear at least I know I didn't have to go through
everything that I put us through, dear, you know it can't be all bad.
As long as this ends and we're both alive, I'll put you by my side
cuz we'll be who we need to be in time.
And all along you've been my muse, my pen and pad, my flip flopped shoes
I choose to love, or can't help need, can't make or take, can wound can bleed.
We're so imperfect, so damn sloppy, broken tongued and knees a knockin'
this damn bed, yeah we both made it, but who has the guts to lay in it?
You're love scratch scarred too like cribs out on that lawn not at rest for certain.
Regrets I let happen, heaped make me go ghostly, so translucent.
But if I'm gonna be made of these past and present “me”s
I hope that you know how it goes.
As long as this ends and we're both alive I'll put you by my side.
Cuz we'll be who we need to be in time.