Michael

Well, Michael's on the telephone
There's a woman on the line
And there's lipstick on his button-down
And it sure as hell ain't mine

But it really ain't no matter
I've been hanging out next door
Learning how to shoot a handgun
And clean up blood off of the floors

I've been talking to the chief
The chief of our police
And I've been getting kind of cozy
With the law enforcement, see?

This is really Michael's fault
He's why I'm going to jail
But my lawyer said that's bullshit
Won't hold up or get me bail

But I know her name is Baby
And she lives at 503
Whisperey Avenue, on a quiet middle street
'Cause I've got a little silencer
Not too much more than free

And I might pay a visit
To Michael's young Baby
Then Michael came and told me
The last thing I'd thought I'd hear

He said, "I got this woman pregnant
And I seen you acting weird"
So I had to bite the bullet
And I threw the gun away
It was mostly an idea mixed in with a bit of rage

I said, "Michael, I am leaving
And it's best you let it be
And don't you do to Baby
As you've done to me"

So I bought a one-way ticket
And I went to Minnesota
And I spent all of Michael's money
And I picked up the telephone, ah

And I dialed up sweet Baby
And said, let me hear the cry
'Cause I feel in some odd way
That this child's partly mine

Well, then Baby start sobbing
And then she said to me
Michael's been a cheating
And I've been flirting with the chief

I said, "Did you buy a handgun?"
And she said, "Yes son, that I did
But I threw it out, once Michael said
He was having another kid"