The Barber's Unhappiness Songtext

von The Matches

Do me a favor, would you please
Hang up the receiver on me
Before I, before I talk my vocabulary dry.

Cold colas to coexist
Hold sodas in both her fists
I... I'd hoped for a different you.
There's comfort in the clamor of cafes
Solace from the abyss of days
I... I'd hoped for a different you.
Still I trace your gaze
But that's stalker praise, and I lack the turn of phrase

Do me a favor, would you, my Doe
Don't come over later, don't spend two days in a row
I know my pre-calculated charm will soon run low.

Cold colas to coexist
Hold sodas in both her fists
I... I'd hoped for a different you.
There's comfort in the clamor of cafes
Solace from the abyss of days
I... I'd hoped for a different you.
Still I trace your gaze
But that's stalker praise, and I lack the turn of phrase

Every morning through Ma's twin rose trellises
Grammar, middle, and Lake High
Barber college, through Ma's twin rose trellises

I'd planned to pick for you a rose; my hell, this is
A plan's as close as I'll ever get; my hell, this is
I haven't yet, I haven't yet...

Cold colas to coexist
Hold sodas in both her fists
I... I'd hoped for a different you.
There's comfort in the clamor of cafes
Solace from the abyss of days
I... I'd hoped for a different you.
Still I trace your gaze
But that's stalker praise, and I lack the turn of phrase

Do me a favor, be rational
Save me the labor of the breakup call
Just assume the worst
When the phone don't ring, dismiss me to the hearse