[Storyteller.]

If I had a dollar bill for every time I’ve been wrong,
I’d be a self-made millionaire and you’d still be gone.
So hand me down my best dress shoes and my best dress shirt,
'cause I’m going out in style to cover the hurt.
And all I wanna do all day is spend it in bed,
but that’s bad for the body and even worse for my head.
So I’ll try and find a place where no one will ask me a thing;
it’ll help to forget and help me to sing...