X'ing out the numbers puts me in a slumber
Can't call for help and nobody's at home
Had a premonition, icy cold suspicion
Fueled by superstition and slick tricks bright lights
It takes one million strips of paper fastened by one staple
To take the upper hand they say you've got to have a plan
Simple concentration, choked with hesitation
Simple conversation, no I don't understand
No, I don't understand how you got the upper hand on me
I don't understand how you got the upper hand on me
X'ing out the number put me in a slumber
So hard to call for help when nobody's at home
Had a premonition, icy cold suspicion
Fueled by superstition, stuck in repetition
You're calling me a liar, there's more smoke than fire
More smoke than fire if you're calling me a liar
On a million strips of paper, fastened by one staple
In one word, shut it down, shut it down
No, I don't understand how you got the upper hand on me
I don't understand how you got the upper hand on me
No, I don't understand how you got the upper hand on me