i'd sit on my hands if it'd do any good
cause what i do is not what i should
and i always say that i'm a stand-up guy
which implies that i can walk as well
the eighth ring of hell is full of flatters(?) and pandas
i'm one or both, although it hardly matters
cause when i leave i'm gonna catch fire
in a terrible sky that from far away
lights up the walls of your new kitchen
while you're busy knitting and forgetting
and now i guess it's time to say so long
but i'm not sure that i'm saying goodbye, goodbye
i'm saying goodbye (x2)
but i still want to try, i just can't decide
i don't want to leave
i miss your hands and your little feet
for several times, i've been driven to cheat upon you
that's more than enough, there's just one thing to do
