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So I walk a little too fast, and |
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I drive a little too fast, |
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And I'm reckless it's true, but what else can you do |
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At the end of a love affair? |
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So I talk a little too much, and |
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I laugh a little too much, |
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And my voice is too loud when |
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I'm out in a crowd, |
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So that people are apt to stare. |
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Do they know, do they care, that it's only |
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That I'm lonely, and low as can be? |
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And the smile on my face isn't really a smile at all. |
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So I smoke a little too much, and |
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I joke a little too much, |
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And the tunes |
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I request are not always the best, |
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But the ones where the trumpets blare. |
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So I go at a maddening pace, and |
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I pretend that it's taking his place, |
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But what else can you do at the end of a love affair? |
