Writing's On the Wall
It's not open to interpretation
Her words are never minced
She let me know what was on her mind
Don't remember when I felt so maligned
And things haven't been quite the same since
She wrote I hate you in marker in the bedroom
You're no good for me in pencil in the hall
I'd be better off on my own
In crayon by the telephone
I guess you could say
The writing's on the wall...
I'm starting to think it's time to end this
Her poetry of insults of knows no bounds
Give me broken glass or mustard gas
Her repertoire is growing fast
And somehow it reads even worse than it sounds
She wrote you're worthless in ballpoint in the kitchen
You can't satisfy in the bathroom stall
I have had my fill with ink and quill
Just below the window sill
I guess you could say the writing's on the wall
She's the Michelangelo of hurting feelings
"You're dead to me" in lipstick all across the ceiling...
When it's over, i know I'll miss her
she's a beauty, she's an artist and my world
Yeah, I know she lives to torture me
From the nailpolish ont he TV
But it just won't be the same without my girl
She's the Henri Mattisse of breaking spirits
"You're a waste of space" in watercolor above the chandelier
And it's starting to get to me, when I read...
I hate you in marker in the bedroom
You're no good for me in pencil in the hall
I'd be better off on my own
In crayon by the telephone
I guess you could say
The writing's on the wall...
Her words are never minced
She let me know what was on her mind
Don't remember when I felt so maligned
And things haven't been quite the same since
She wrote I hate you in marker in the bedroom
You're no good for me in pencil in the hall
I'd be better off on my own
In crayon by the telephone
I guess you could say
The writing's on the wall...
I'm starting to think it's time to end this
Her poetry of insults of knows no bounds
Give me broken glass or mustard gas
Her repertoire is growing fast
And somehow it reads even worse than it sounds
She wrote you're worthless in ballpoint in the kitchen
You can't satisfy in the bathroom stall
I have had my fill with ink and quill
Just below the window sill
I guess you could say the writing's on the wall
She's the Michelangelo of hurting feelings
"You're dead to me" in lipstick all across the ceiling...
When it's over, i know I'll miss her
she's a beauty, she's an artist and my world
Yeah, I know she lives to torture me
From the nailpolish ont he TV
But it just won't be the same without my girl
She's the Henri Mattisse of breaking spirits
"You're a waste of space" in watercolor above the chandelier
And it's starting to get to me, when I read...
I hate you in marker in the bedroom
You're no good for me in pencil in the hall
I'd be better off on my own
In crayon by the telephone
I guess you could say
The writing's on the wall...
Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Ferguson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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