i'm tired thinking 'bout   the taste of her lips   they're like the sour grapes   in my fruit salad      she drives a space ship   she drives a monster truck   too much of charm and i'm lying in our dumb luck      i think she's beautiful   i haven't told her yet   maybe i will after probably one more drink      she's got a boyfriend   i heard she hates him   i think i'm dyin' here, i think i'm dyin' here      i'm tired thinking 'bout   a way to look cool   but she sees through me, she knows i'm not a superstar      she's got some issues   but i've got some too   i know she's broken   if she needs a fix i'll be her tool      i'm tired thinking 'bout   the taste of her lips   they're like the sour grapes   in my fruit salad      she drives me crazy, she makes me look dumb   when i get up from staring at her from across the room