The love you gave, gave me plaque.   Gingivitis of the heart, I want the freshness back.   Like lemon juice on a paper cut,   something always stung.   A painful, minty freshness like toothpaste on the tongue.      We could be singing the same song.   Where do I begin when I'm just standing still?   Where do I turn when I have made so many mistakes,   with so few lessons learned?      My hands are tied behind my back.   I can only get an oil change, go home and pack.   I saw you on TV today,   but there was nothing on.   I can only hope you've lost your notes about this song.