Think About It

Took her pills and her magazines
Left her lying in her misery
He was locked up in his room
Colored pinwheels as the sirens wine down the avenue
Think about it once
Take your time don’t fuss
What you got to lose
Everybody choose
Think about it once
Take your time, don’t fuss
All the dog-eared pages on your shell
You never talk except about yourself
All the red eyes in the room
Tried to rearrange your world for you
Think about it once
What you got to lose
As he pulled his pad and scribbled suicide
the county coroner, he shook his head from side to side
He was a little less than pleased
Very pale and very tired
The toil of love had brought them to their knees
Copyright © 1997 American Recordings