Gray, quiet and tired and mean
Picking at a worried seam
I try to make you mad at me over the phone
Red eyes and fire and signs
I'm taken by a nursery rhyme
I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home
No amount of coffee
No amount of crying
No amount of whiskey
No amount of wine
No, nothing else will do
I've gotta have you
I've gotta have you
