You've saved me a place in a circle made of ashes Making up favors in the bottoms of easter baskets But a quiet kiss on the cheek is all I'll get You say that it's hoes before bros in Pontiac It's this couch that I'm sleeping on
Familiar revolver of patterned behavior I've got a bottomless pocket of well thought out complements And an admirable hunger for everything in your fridge But it's this couch that I'll be sleeping on