The college years were lean, well Coming out but maybe not so clean, my love And if I stay much longer My feelings for you, they might get much stronger now A Motorola coma Sleep your way into a deep diploma, girl At the dormitory You come to pour me one of your best stories, girl And I feel your face getting wet Like the color red of roulette And I place my losing bet On your side And I see your eyes of regret But you gave as good as you get Like the Massachusetts threat Running wild A pair of dirty jeans, well You would wash inside my brass machine, that's good Laying on your mattress A thing of beauty, we would need more practice now Hall and Oates were singing The funny notes that you were always bringing, girl An elevator's closing Hard to hide when love is so exposing And I feel your face getting wet Like the color red of roulette And I place my losing bet On your side And I see your eyes of regret But you gave as good as you get Like the Massachusetts threat Running wild When I drove her To Villanova Light me up when you decide The stark aroma Of your Tacoma A tiny box where we reside Battle tested A life invested Duly noted and denied Fully loaded Space encoded A quiet night out in the sky Your stack of lies was daunting A tribute to your mind, but way more haunting now A talking psycho killer Betrayed the heads of even Henry Miller now Conspiracy's a theory I wonder, Tim, if this could be your Leary, love She acts like Marlon Brando Born online inside the San Fernando