These chords make her so happy, especially when he plays them that way
What she says makes him so happy, complimenting him all day
Well I don't love you, but I love your songs
Well I don't love you, but your words make me feel like I belong
She begs him to keep playing these chords
even though he and they may get a little tired
And he employs her to keep saying that stuff because her hollow words are
keeping him inspired
Well I don't love you, but I love your songs
Well I don't love you, but you'll do as an
adequate muse
Well I love the opticians, 'cause it's not your fault if
your eyes are bad
And they can't make you feel guilty, and they're
hardly gonna blame your mum and dad
The doctors and the dentists, can see how much you've indulged
By laughing at the condition you're in, they can
tell what you've never divulged
And it's up to you to look after yourself, which is
so boring, ring, ring, bring me down
Well I don't love you, but I love your songs
Well I don't love you, but your words make me
feel like I belong.