You
You
You
You
You and your museum of lovers,
the precious collection you've housed in your covers,
my sinfulness threatened by my own admission.
And the bags are much too heavy in my insecure condition,
my pregnant mind is fat-full with envy again.
But I still love to watch in your old bath water,
love to think that you could love another,
I can't help it.
You're my kind of man.
You're my kind of man.
Wanted and adored by attractive women,
bountiful selection at your discretion,
I know I'm diving into my own destruction.
So why do we choose the boys that are naughty?
I don't fit in, so why do you want me?
I know I can't tame you, but I just keep trying.
Cause I love to watch in your old bath water,
love to think that you could love another,
I'm your list with all your other women.
But I still love to watch in your old bath water,
you make me feel like I could love another,
I can't help it.
You're my kind of man.
So I passify problems with kisses and cuddles,
diligently doubtful through all kinds of trouble,
then I find myself choking on all my contradictions.
Cause I still love to watch in your old bath water,
love to think that you could love another,
share a toothbrush,
you're my kind of man.
I still love to watch in your old bath water,
make me feel like I could love another,
I can't help it.
You're my kind of man.