Hard to believe, and against all odds, this is actually kind of a serious song. I know, I know, we had people on the door and everything, I don’t know how it got through.


Well, I’m talking to you like I don’t believe you’d understand
And you’re laughing like you think I’m cute at everything I’ve planned
I’m not used to feeling stupid, I’m not used to seeming cool
What kind of woman wouldn’t treat me like a fool?
I’m not used to leaning over in the middle of the night
and seeing someone else’s body silhouetted in the light
and thinking “is this stuff the cancer or the cure?”
I’m unsure, and I’m not used to being unsure.

So I ride my bike to your place in the middle of the day
and I’m testosteroning in the most obnoxious way
Why don’t you call my bluff on it? Why do you let it pass?
What kind of woman wouldn’t want to kick my arse?
And now I feel I’m twisting you where you don’t want to go
Like I’ve sucked you into something sharper than you know
And you’re hoping my resistance won’t endure
And I’m unsure, and I’m not used to feeling so unsure.

And if I come off too casual I’m hoping to imply
You couldn’t hope to know me and you shouldn’t even try
And I say “this shit is new to me, so get back off my ground”
What kind of woman would want to hang around
when I’m stuck up like a Blu-Tac and cold as Ballarat
arrogant as Kennett and my stomach is too fat
Maybe everybody feels this insecure,
but I’m unsure, and I’m not used to it.

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