Small talk, too much, thought that you could be the one
But the whole week long, when you're with me, I don't know it
What the fuck's this even for?
I don't feel it anymore
Seventeen came and went, and I'm comin' clean
I don't want no weekend plans no more
Adolescent rage, glass on the floor
Now I'm settling the score
107 on the ground, dancing all around
Lost my Prada in my trunk, got some ketchup on my gown
'Cause I'm only 33, you know how it works for me
Left your Prada on the street, got some ketchup on my sheets
Your shoes loose, you gave it too much slack
You tripped, you lose, got bruises on your back
Face-plant, that's a bummer, what a shame, way to waste
That should've picked a different name (Suzie!)
♪
Small talk, too much
♪
Small talk, too much, thought that you could be the one
But the whole week long, when you're with me, I don't know it
What the fuck's this even for? (What's it for?)
I don't feel it anymore
Small talk, too much, thought that you could be the one
But the whole week long, when you're with me, I don't know it
What the fuck's this even for? (What's it for?)
I don't feel it anymore