The Format

She Doesn't Get It
All the girls pose the same for pictures All the boys got the same girls' hair I am bored 'cause I fell much older Look at me, as if I've got a reason to stare But you talk so loud that it calms me down You're crying "let's make a toast" She says she's leaving on a Sunday That leaves me one more night Can I take you home? I know it's wrong Songtextebut I know your type She says she's leaving on a Sunday and I don't care I need to know where to turn I tried it once It never caught on I was the only one who got burned I've read every word you're said From a poster of a cat Four books look across your sofa I thought your coffee table was more clever than that It gets worse once we get to her room as she stops and sings "doot do do doot do do doot do" I claim "new religion" is my song She doesn't get it It's all before she was born And you lock your doors Like I've been here before I feel like I've seen a ghost Suddenly between sheets and eyelids I am reminded why I don't do this I fall in love far too quickly I never want her to forget me When you're gone Will you call? Will you write? Aus Songtexte Mania