Karen, please come back I miss the kids
Karen, please come back I miss the kids
How old's he again, 24?
Is he still your yoga instructor?
Karen, I don't have a bed anymore
I sleep on a futon on the hardwood floor
Can you blame me? I'm quite poor
Why'd you have to be such a whore?
And I will write you songs
Until my lungs fall out
Until you hear me out
She took the fucking kids
Please hear me now
All I want's for you to listen
Karen, I keep your hair in the drain
A little piece of you that still remains
Sometimes I stroke it
My pain burns hot as my torch
Placed outside your door
Now you'll see why you're a-- nope, already done that one
I'll die in ritual fire
Tear my world apart
Like you did to my heart
Karen, please come back I miss the kids
Was my arson not enough to convince, you?
Give me back my son
So I can stop sending you my porn
So open up your door
Karen, I've been thinking
Karen, I know I've been bad
Probably shouldn't have killed your dad
But, is it really grounds for divorce?
(Karen)
No, Naaahhh