These chords make her so happy, especially when he plays them that way
Well she says she makes him so happy, complimenting him all day
Well i don't love you, but i love your songs
Well i don't love you, but your words make me feel like i belong
She begs him to keep playing these chords even though him and them are getting a little tired
And he employs her to keep saying that stuff because her hollow words are keeping him inspired
Well i don't love you, but your songs are keeping me amused
Well i don't love you, but you'll do as an adequate muse
Well i love the opticians, 'cos it's not your fault if your eyes are bad
And they can't make you feel guilty, and they're hardly gonna blame your mum and dad
The doctors and the dentist, can see how much you indulge
By laughing at what condition you're in, they can tell what you never divulge
And it's up to you to look after yourself, which is so boring, ring, ring, bring me down
One, two, three, four pa pa pa pa (...)
Well i don't love you, but i love your songs
Well i don't love you, but your words make me feel like i belong

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