Don’t Come Around Here No More (Please) The Brave Little Abacus

It's not sorry if you're doing what you want to
It's a choice, self-manufactured circumstance
It's choosing not to be here

Wearing our hats backwards we looked content, cute
As you'd roll your feet across my denim thighs
In my hands, they would reside

I'm not too important but I wish I could be
If I was, you would've come back
At least for another listen of understatement

It's hard to believe you, it's hard to believe in you
It's hard to believe you, it's hard to believe in you
It's hard to believe you, it's hard to believe in you
It's hard to believe you, it's hard to believe in you

You're tearing me apart again but I'll get back together
Even though last time I reassembled in a car that I wrecked last summer
These pieces will find one another
And embedded within each other
They will reform me
With the aid of all my records
Making bones from molded vinyl
And up for my mistakes by giving me some strength in myself
And some security in art
And enough love to make up for the one friend
Who never seemed to want it