Vincent Kompany

She's got a wicked way of getting what she wants from me Involving personality tests she sends to mine She's always checking up, asking if my jeans fit comfortably And letting me know she remembers all our time She's got a wicked way of acting like St. Anthony I've lost so much, I hope that she's not keeping tabs I've tried to leave her, but she keeps on coming after me And I'll need her there when things go really bad I was crazy back then And I'm crazy right now And they're both in my bed I've got a wicked way of hating my own company She's not too bad, but got me in trouble way back when Watch 16 hours straight of the Gilmore Girls quite comfortably I was crazy back then Cut all my hair off trying to look like Vincent Kompany (la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la) Tied it together, so I could tape it to the wall (la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la) And posted pictures, hoping my friends would fall in love with me (la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la) I'm not crazy at all Bit of shame, bit of arrogance to put ourselves down Bit of Catherine of Aragon, the way she sticks around But she don't lose her head over nothin' I'm rushing past someone so fast that's waited patiently Every morning in the bathroom at my feet I recognise her from a list of scary anecdotes And a picture that you said was of me