Damn, was it always this bad?
He almost laughs as she pulls away her hand
They chat for hours, like five and a half
Wishing that they could go back to what they had
The thing is they only argue about the past
En espanol they pelea sobre pasado - And then no hablo
I swear the way that they fight every night's like a couple of modern day Pica**os
Trying to mess each others faces up
Rearrange each others whole persona with their paintbrush
Every time they break up and make up
It takes a few strokes off the coat and provokes both the painters to revolt
Because even though they both know
That when the paint dries the portrait's gonna show they've both grown
It dries slow
So in the meantime the in between time they try to force it with a blow
And blow it
I really want to know, I never understood
How a man could do the best a man could yet a woman still demands more goods
A man eater bites the feeding hand saying she don't need a freaking man
Perhaps a man should
Seek comfort from the skies
Use the clouds as a buffer from the lies
From number nine he can look into her eyes
And respectfully decline her bullsh** from up high
Because after all a caged bird must fly
All he's after is some piece of mind
Yeah after all a caged bird must fly
All he's after is some peace of mind
Peace of mind