I bought a phone card I pay good money to argue with you When speaking to you is like reaching for the stars And talking, like reaching for the moon
And maybe, I'll argue my way to Mars And get a little bit closer to you Get a little bit closer
How the hell, how the hell do you do what you do to me?
Distance is terrible I can feel you growing apart I might as well be a zillion miles away And you might be my little star And maybe I'll never reach you anyway
Being with you is a lonely art It's a lonely art And for once, and for once, I'm scared you'll grow tired of me If that means that we'll talk Then I'll thicken the plot, Baby
So how the hell, how the hell do you do what you do to me?
