Tell her this I don't like to kiss
  Ill know it was something ill miss
  And tell her that ill never be late
  Along as she will be there to
  Wait for me…
    Tell her this my tongues in a twist
  I ran through a confident fist
  And tell her that the gypsy was real
  The sender is what makes the toe cramps and stomach aches
  Hard to heal
    And it don't mean a thing
  If you cant try to be
  If you're always expecting
  From me
    Tell her this ill never be rich
  And Christmas was always a bitch
  Tell her that I still feel the same
  But between me and you we see things better and…
    And it don't mean a thing
  If you cant try to be
  But you're always expecting
  From me
    Still in my underwear
  Watching some reruns of anything
    (I can't forget)
    Still with regrets
    Tell her this I don't like to kiss
  Ill know it was something ill miss
    And it don't mean a thing
  If you cant try to be
  But you're always expecting
  From me
    No it don't mean a thing
  If you cant try to be
  What you're always expecting
  From me