I am bottled, fizzy water, and you are shaking me up You are a fingernail, running down the chalkboard I thought I left in third grade Now my only, consolation, is that this could not last forever Even though you're singing and thinking How well you've got it made
Who are you? When will you be through?
Yeah, it's just a phase... It will be over soon Yeah, it's just a phase Yeah, it's just a phase
Call it 'women's, intuition', but I think I'm on to something here Temporaryism has been the black plague And the Jesus of our age I know that I sound opinionated, maybe biased And quite possibly jaded But sooner than later They'll be throwing quarters at you on stage
Who are you? When will you be through?
Yeah, it's just a phase... it will be over soon Yeah, it's just a PHASE, and I'm waiting for it to be over TOO, yeah