Well, I wish it was springtime--the winter is so cold.
I still remember all the crazy things you said.
Wish I had aces--suppose I should just fold.
Throw in the towel, honey. Get out of my head.

What's that that I hear? Heard a preacher on the street say the End is Near,
With the freeze dried high tide sitting on the sideline--
Should we call the guy to get our next line?
Turn up! Shoot up! Wake up! Chuck up!
Eighteen shots ain't enough to get me fucked up.
Waiting on me, waiting on you, waiting on them (see they prefer that to "him")
And now you're singing at the top of your lungs, but you're tone deaf,
And I'm thinking that you're speaking in tongues with your bad breath.
Are there even any among us who aren't bored to death?

And I wish it was summer now--the spring is just too mild.
Everyone's dancing while I'm wishing I was dead.
I feel like a joker when the deuces are called wild.
Knock on the table, baby. Get out of my head.

Well, they tell you to focus and they tell you to concentrate,
Tell you to go to war and tell you, "don't feed the hate."
Night full of fright with the moon so white,
Take a tip from me: everything'll be alright.
So butter me up, chew me up, spit me out;
Jump down, turn around, and twist and shout.
And I can't think of any place I'd rather be
'Cept anywhere that gets you the hell away from me,
So I'm driving just as fast as I can to get away now.
And I hear the voices in my head--what can they say now?
Oh my god! There's got to be a way, but how?

And I wish it was fall now--the summer is too hot.
Waiting on spades, but the river's running red.
It's too late to bluff now, so darling, could you not?
Run along home now. Get out of my head.

Now I'm sitting here behind the glass,
Watching all the faces of the people that pass.
The plaque on the wall reads "Nigh extinct,"
And I'm so afraid of what the people think.
So pour me a shot, and another again;
If you run out of whiskey, you can give me gin.
I've been talking to this woman that I met last night--
She seems very nice, just not quite right.
She says, "In the eventuality of my death,
Would you tell my three sons, Cain and Abel and Seth?
See, I'm the mother--the mother of them all--
But their daddy, he left with a snake and never called."
So it's time to stop and ask yourself what you believe in.
I've been rinsing and repeating 'til words, they lose their meaning.
But I know there ain't a thing that you can say to stop me from leaving.

And I wish it was winter now--the autumn is kinda dry.
The leaves are rustling, and I can't get out of bed.
I'll go down swinging with a pair and a jack high;
I'm all in now, so get the hell out of my head.