Losing your lover, is like losing black socks   They always end up in someone else's bedroom      Losing black hair ties, is like losing black socks   They always end up in someone else's head space      I thought I would come and see you   But when I opened my drawer   My black socks were unmatching   And my hair was dry as straw   I thought about wearing my hair out   And wearing no shoes   But it all reminded me of...