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This bed is on fireWith passionate loveThe neighbours complain about the noises aboveBut she only comes when she's on topMy therapist said not to see you no moreShe said you're like a disease without any cureShe said I'm so obsessed that I'm becoming a bore, oh noAh, you think you're so prettyCaught your hand inside the tillSlammed your fingers in the doorFought with kitchen knives and skewersDressed me up in womens clothesMessed around with gender rolesDye my eyes and call me prettyMoved out of the house, so you moved next doorI locked you out, you cut a hole in the wallI found you sleeping next to me, I thought I was aloneYou're driving me crazy, when are you coming home
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