Don’t feel bad.   The fortunes that we never had,   Are bound to feel insincere,   Are bound to make everything clear,   You’re laughing at me!      And that’s bad.   Those dreams that were making us mad,   Are sure to be our alibi,   Are sure to be the reasons why,   You’re laughing at me!      So, so, you dropped your drink,   And your faux-philosophy makes me think,   And you cut the ropes beneath the analyst.      And that’s bad.   Those old songs that would make us so sad,   Are bound to make us so blue,   I’m sorry but I can’t love you,   You’re laughing at me!      And that’s bad.   The only friend that I ever had,   You’re sure to one day let me fall,   You’re sure to mock my curtain call,   You’re laughing at me!      So, so, you dropped your drink,   And your sepia photography makes me think,   And you cut the ropes beneath the analyst,   Saw the burn-marks on my wrist,   And you bled for me.   Bled for me.      Jack was nimble, Jill was quick,   This self-belief makes me feel sick,   I gave myself a little flick,   And it woke me up.   Woke me up.   So, so, you dropped your drink,   And your sepia photography makes me think,   And you cut the ropes beneath the analyst,   Saw the burn-marks on my wrist,   And you bled for me.   Bled for me.