Every week I go in and talk about my life
She's taking notes, and I feel justified
And I tell her how hard, how hard I try
She's like a friend, I ask her why, why, why
Is there a point wherein, it's just rude to cry, and you cry
And she follows me with this line
Put your hands away, it's just no use to even try
Confucius says you want it, you want it
You've got your fingers on it
You don't got it 'till it's gone
It follows you all through the night
(It follows you)
(It follows you)
Oh, oh, oh I can (fran don't want to be cold inside
Out freeze the ice, or destroy a nice guy
Midnight sits upon her shoulder
She looks me in the eye
Confucius says you want it, you want it
You've got your fingers on it
You don't got it 'till it's gone
It follows you all through the night
Denying, drinking, lying, constant thinking
All I did was waste more time
Now I won't try to find the line in between true art and lies
Luxury and pride
Cheap attention and writing esoteric novels no one ever ever buys
Confucius says you want it, you want it
You've got your fingers on it
You don't got it 'till it's gone
It follows you all through the night