And you don't have to say those mean things
When you curse me out on the end of the telephone
Now I'm staring at my shoes going all the way home
Cause I'm breaking down and the cracks well they start to show
Raise your gla** and toast to the man that I was
Things you think you know
Things you think you know
Well you don't have to go your own way
You can stay right here with my heart beating next to you
I'll be up all night loving all those things you do
And I'm getting old and the scars well they start to show
Raise your gla** and drink to the man that I was
Things you think you know
Things you think you know
Oh, I'm sorry I let you go
Sorry I let you go
Sorry I let you
You don't have to go
Please don't go
And you don't have to say those mean things
When you curse me out on the end of the telephone