You go and I’ll stay.
Why would I put clothes on to see some guy you like more than me?
But you should go-- I’ll be OK.
I promised myself I’d finally start that book I’ve been meaning to read
about the French Revolution.
You go and I’ll stay.
Why would I leave the house to go see some guy who sings better than me?
When you come home to me--
smelling like booze, humming his tunes--
I’m rolling over and it’s light out for this lightweight.