I won't lie I don't like you whispering that way It's your turn It's your turn of phrase that gives you away The games we play One to you in the afternoon And one to me in the evening Seven years of Scrabble And we're even stevens Come on Your complaining is getting on my nerves At least, at last You're completely lost for words Did you forget what you deserve? One to you in the afternoon And one to me in the evening Seven years of Scrabble And we're even stevens I know it's a consequence Of clinging to consonants But P R L N Q F C Spells trouble to me Come on