Well I spin round the room stare at somebody else

But I think that sometimes I embarrass myself

Like running in and out and guessing just when to laugh

Timing all my entrances and talking too fast

Yes I trip over your old words asleep on the mat

Cracking those rancid jokes that always fall flat

Feeling like the sun who rose to find it's Three O'Clock

The sun who rose to greet itself and found it's too hot

Like a pauper's dying daughter

Who's counting what she's got

Like an up and coming actress who's finding she's not

Well your book sure is good always said it would be

And thanks for selling all the world the ins and out's of me

And you never spared a feeling never thought that you would

But when I get to thinkin I still reckon it was good

Like a pauper's dying daughter

Who's counting what she's got

Like an up and coming actress who's finding she's not

Well I spin round the room stare at somebody else

But I think that sometimes I embarrass myself

Like running in and out and guessing just when to laugh

Timing all my entrances and talking too fast

Wooo!