(One, two, three)
She was high-class
Drives too fast
Cigarette ash on the dash
Wasting her 20s on me
She was Springsteen
Acts so mean
Crashing cars, but says she's clean
And now I'm falling asleep
You make things over-complicated
And I feel manipulated
And you seem so aggravated with me
You think you're the queen of the world
Oh, but no, you're just a girl
Who cares too much about what people think
I hope you don't cut your hair
'Cause it looks far too brittle bleached
And it looks better black than pink
I hope you don't cut your hair
If you don't wanna hear me speak
Then don't come crying back to me
I hope you don't cut your hair
Oh, I hope you don't cut your hair
And I was star struck, trying to fuck
I mistook you for just dumb luck
It wasn't easy to see
Romantic eyes, little white lies
Took the shirt off random guys
Who all looked kinda of like me
You make things over-complicated
And I feel manipulated
And I know that you are wasted with me (wasted!)
You think you're the queen of the world
Oh, but no, you're just a girl
Who's talking shit and selling it cheap
I hope you don't cut your hair
'Cause it looks far too brittle bleached
And it looks better black than pink
I hope you don't cut your hair
If you don't wanna hear me speak
Then don't come crying back to me
I hope you don't cut your hair
Oh, I hope you don't cut your hair
I hope you don't cut your hair
Oh, I hope you don't cut your hair