How's it going? Did everybody have a good time? Consequences, I know you've got yours and I've got mine. Did you hear me say, "anymore?" I can't do it, I can't do it. I don't want to win. I can't cut it. I can't cut it. I just can't compete. There we were, in your kitchen, forcing smiles. Tell me why. Talking loud but I can't hear you. When you say, "Whoever said that grownups can't have fun?" Make yourself so anxious and get trashed to laugh it off again. Tied down. Static. Force fed. One last time. There you go with all those questions. I must have answered them a hundred times. But I guess I'll entertain it just to make sure that we're clear. All my friends, they see it. In my mouth, repeating, why you do. Why you do, incomplete. Why I don't, can't compete.