The Barber's Unhappiness Paroles

Do me a favor, would you, my Doe

Don't come over later, don't spend three days in a row

I know my pre-calculated charm will soon run low.

Cold colas to coexist

hold sodas in both her fists

I...I'd hoped for a different you.

there's comfort in the clamor of cafes

solace from the abyss of days

I...I'd hoped for a different you.

still I trace your gaze
grammar, middle, and Lake High

barber college, through Ma's twin rose trellises

I'd planned to pick for you a rose; my hell, this is

a plan's as close as I'll ever get; my hell, this is

I haven't yet, I haven't yet...

Do me a favor, be rational

save me the labor of the breakup call

just assume the worst

when the phone don't ring, dismiss me to the hearse