You swore youd never spoken flagrant fib
I nodded sighed and shrugged at mental loss
You made of me a gob in girl talk glib
I saw you silly sort to double cross
Im soft as soap I strive to plug and gloss
The differences small they still exist
In clash I like to nag you like to boss
In sulk I keep a score you keep a list
In tittle tattle theres a gram of gist
I like to patronize the prettier chicks
Ill coo at lumpiest bust or limpest wrist
I wonder what I do to get on wicks
Ill suffer burn on cloudy summer day
Your fibs accumulate theyre grey on gray
Chorus day dag dia
