This one time
I kissed a girl for class war.
I pulled her hips in close
and held my left fist high above her pale right clavicle.
She said "oh tell me darling do you think we have a future?".
"Well maybe, kind of, I'm pretty sure we've two between us".
Bring over pictures of your dead pets and relatives
and we'll just say it's over if I don't shed any tears.

I'm calling you again on your telephone
and all I ever get is another stupid ringtone.
He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning.
He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning.

As if I walked into the room to see my ex-girlfriend
(who by the way I'm still in love with)
sucking the face of some pretty boy, with my favourite band's most popular song in the background.
Is it wrong that I can't decide which bothers me most?
In the forefront of my mind is a thought not of you underneath but me coming out looking worse.

I'm calling you again on your telephone
and all I ever get is another stupid busy tone.
He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning.
He's gonna get drunk and call you at four in the morning.