Eight years old to the day You blew your candles off the cake Wishing too hard for them to stay You burnt the house down She held the match, he held her face You learned to hate your birthday Calling her bitch, despite your wish They had to separate And the room sings And it sounds like leaving home And the room sings "We know something you don't" ♪ Now he's quite the stand-up guy He's stood you up 'least twelve times And when he finally does arrive He brings his new wife The family shrink from second floor The one he claimed he couldn't afford Your mother cries, clings to the floor You knock his lights out And the room sings And it sounds like leaving home And the room sings "We know something you don't" ♪ And the room sings And it sounds like leaving home The room sings "We know something you don't" The room sings And it sounds like there's no love