Cause I Swear That I'm Dying, Slowly

There's All Body Types, But There's Just One Size.

For A Song I Was Bought Now I Lie When I Talk With A Careful Eye On The Cue Card. Onto A Stage I Was Pushed, With My Sorrow Well Rehearsed. So Give Me All Your Pity And Your Money, Now (all Of It).

And Your Eyes Must Do Some Raining If You're Ever Gonna Grow / When Crying Don't Help, You Can't Compose Yourself / It's Best To Compose A Poem, An Honest Verse Of Longing / Or A Simple Song Of Hope.

My Brother Went To College To Become A Doctor And If He Studies Hard Enough He'll End Up Just Like Papa, Who Hates His Life.

I'd Rather Be Working For A Paycheck, Than Waiting To Win The Lottery. Besides, Maybe This Time It's Different, I Mean, I Really Think You Like Me.