I've called you so many times today And I guess it's all true what your girlfriends say That you don't ever want to see me again And your brother's going to kill me and he's six feet ten I guess you'd call it cowardice But I'm not prepared to go on like this
I can't stand losing you
I see you've sent my letters back And my LP records and they're all scratched I can't see the point in another day When nobody listens to a word I say You can call it lack of confidence But to carry on living doesn't make no sense
I can't stand losing you
I guess this is our last goodbye And you don't care, so I won't cry And you'll be sorry when I'm dead And all this guilt will be on your head I guess you'd call it suicide But I'm too full to swallow my pride
