For a master of deception and subterfuge You've made yourself quite the bed, to lie in Do your time traveling through the tanning booth So you don't let the sun catch you crying So predictable, I know what you're thinking My teeth are beating and my knees are weak It's as if there's something up with the wiring You can poke your head behind the mountain peak It don't have to mean that you've gone into hiding So predictable, I know what you're thinking I'm watching your every move I feel the tears are coming on It won't be long It won't be long Straight from the cover shoot There's still a trace of body paint On your legs and on your arms and on your face And I'm keeping on my costume And calling it a writing tool And if you're thinking of me I'm probably thinking of you There's still a trace of body paint On your legs and on your arms and on your face There's still a trace of body paint On your legs and on your arms and on your face There's still a trace of body paint On your legs and on your arms and on your face There's still a trace of body paint On your legs and on your arms and on your face So predictable, I know what you're thinking Ooh, hah, yeah