Tight squeeze, lately it's such a bore. The lines are getting thicker. Likely, assuming there's something more, Than glue beneath the sticker. And I know, there's nothing more. Pity you don't feel the love just like the other, Pity you don't feel the love just like the other boys. Weak knees, pretty and so mature. The days are getting darker. And I'm not at all what I was before, The figment of another. But I know there's something more. Pity you don't feel the love just like the other, Pity you don't feel the love just like the other boys.