Sad News

I shoulda killed you myself. It was always a dream of mine. I coulda used a little help, But red wine's been a good friend of mine. I've got sad news. Take off your shoes. Sit down for a while, A while. A while, now. I'm wearing me out. I'm wearing my old clothes. I'm writing all new poems. I'm riding in my car. Oh the children, they're just babies. Little baby-sized socks and shoes, And I think that maybe I should keep them away from you. I'll crawl in and then I'll creep out, out loud. I've got a job. I'm not proud. I'm not proud. I'm wearing me out. I'm wearing my old clothes. I'm writing all new poems. I'm riding in my car. Sad, sad. I've got sad news. I do. Sad news. I've got sad news. But it's all over now. It's all done. Red, Red Rover: I can't remember the game. I'm wearing me out. I'm wearing my old clothes. I'm writing all new poems. I'm riding in my car.