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One of us is packing things in boxes |
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The other two are trying to pretend |
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That the boy she loves is not all that obnoxious |
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We're hoping that she'll see sense in the end |
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But I've come to depend |
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On the strangeness of kind friends |
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Takes a good look and remembers |
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All the cookbooks that her friend has |
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And the dinner was always delicious |
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And it was all she could do just to do the dishes |
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She wrapped her coffee cups in newspaper |
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She took down all her paintings from the wall |
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Soon enough she said I'll see you later |
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And gave her half an hour before giving her a call |
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I don't blame her at all |
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Her bike's still in the hall |
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Takes a good look and remembers |
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All the cookbooks that her friend has |
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Lunch is always leftovers |
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The art of cooking for two |
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Is lost on me and you |
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We've eaten and eaten |
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Until it hurts |
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Given a whole new meaning |
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To just desserts |
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I've got my suspicions |
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But the pudding's where the proof is |
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And you know how sweet my tooth is |
