Lyrics The Barbers Unhappiness - The Matches
Do
me
a
favor,
would
you
please
Hang
up
the
receiver
on
me
Before
I,
before
I
talk
my
vocabulary
dry.
Cold
colas
to
coexist
Hold
sodas
in
both
her
fists
I...
I'd
hoped
for
a
different
you.
There's
comfort
in
the
clamor
of
cafes
Solace
from
the
abyss
of
days
I...
I'd
hoped
for
a
different
you.
Still
I
trace
your
gaze
But
that's
stalker
praise,
and
I
lack
the
turn
of
phrase
Do
me
a
favor,
would
you,
my
Doe
Don't
come
over
later,
don't
spend
two
days
in
a
row
I
know
my
pre-calculated
charm
will
soon
run
low.
Cold
colas
to
coexist
Hold
sodas
in
both
her
fists
I...
I'd
hoped
for
a
different
you.
There's
comfort
in
the
clamor
of
cafes
Solace
from
the
abyss
of
days
I...
I'd
hoped
for
a
different
you.
Still
I
trace
your
gaze
But
that's
stalker
praise,
and
I
lack
the
turn
of
phrase
Every
morning
through
Ma's
twin
rose
trellises
Grammar,
middle,
and
Lake
High
Barber
college,
through
Ma's
twin
rose
trellises
I'd
planned
to
pick
for
you
a
rose;
my
hell,
this
is
A
plan's
as
close
as
I'll
ever
get;
my
hell,
this
is
I
haven't
yet,
I
haven't
yet...
Cold
colas
to
coexist
Hold
sodas
in
both
her
fists
I...
I'd
hoped
for
a
different
you.
There's
comfort
in
the
clamor
of
cafes
Solace
from
the
abyss
of
days
I...
I'd
hoped
for
a
different
you.
Still
I
trace
your
gaze
But
that's
stalker
praise,
and
I
lack
the
turn
of
phrase
Do
me
a
favor,
be
rational
Save
me
the
labor
of
the
breakup
call
Just
assume
the
worst
When
the
phone
don't
ring,
dismiss
me
to
the
hearse
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