i don t know whether to laugh or cry and i don t know whether to live or die i kept my love for her locked deep inside it cuts like a knife she s out of my life out of my life out of my hair out of my mind there s no love in there i move on move on dear god i wasn t breast fed and most of my conversations with men seem to revolve around music i m no musician but the pain has been instrumental my sense finally tune the instruments of of of of being lonely of being lost of being loved of being human man i could use a metaphor but i can t get beyond this shit i could use someone to talk to but most of my conversations with men seem to revolve around music i am a poet who composes what the world proses and proses what the world composes i am a poet who composes what the world proses and proses what the world composes damned indescion and cursed pride i kept my love for her locked deep inside and i don t know what to do to get it through to you get out of my life tonight get out of my life out of my life out of my hair out of my mind cause no lovin fair i move on move on she had nothing but time on her hands silver rings turquoise stones and purple nails i rub my thumb across her palm a featherbed where slept a psalm yay though i walked i used to fly and now we dance i watch my toenails blacken and walk a deadened trance til she woke me with the knife edge of her glance i have the scars to prove the clock strikes with her hands and i don t know what to do to get it through to you and i don t know what to do to get it through out of my life out of my hair out of my mind cause no lovin fair i move on move on i move on1