Oh, you think you'll make it on your own
But every time you cry your heart out
You just play a part 'bout what might have been
Oh, don't give me bad news on the phone
Cause every time I hear that sh** ring
I listen to your voice sing
And I'm turning green
She questions everything you see
Every time I climb a sugar hill
Sitting on the window sill
I'm watching a bee
Don't give me bad news on the phone
My heart is rolling like a stone
I can feel the hot steam
Coming out 'f your nostrils
And chilling my bones
Cry, my oh my oh my oh my
Look at all the dirty pictures
Acid queens and hipsters pa**ing by
Don't give me bad news on the phone
My heart is rolling like a stone
I can feel the hot steam
Coming out 'f your nostrils
And chilling my bones