I'm out here in the freezing cold,
I've got a smoke in hand.
I feel as if I've grown for old
just tryin' to understand.
Got a head that's pretty level,
a heart that loves to hurt;
I fell in love with loving you
and got my just desserts.

Well, I've read Albert Camus,
I've read the Tao Te Ching
enough times to realize
this shit don't mean a thing.
"Shit don't mean a thing," I say,
"it's all in how I think,"
so I'll sing a happy tune
and fix another drink.

Well, I'm in here with Patsy Cline
on the radio,
hating the things you didn't say
as I watched you go.
Starting to resent some shit
you didn't even do.
What you done was bad enough,
but still I'm missing you.

Well, I've read Albert Camus,
I've read the Tao Te Ching
enough times to realize
this shit don't mean a thing.
"Shit don't mean a thing," I say,
"it's all in how I think,"
so I'll sing a happy tune
and fix another drink.

It's a feeling that I could do without,
it never really leaves.
I'm finding it cannot be solved
the way they done with thieves.
I know I can't stay with you,
but why I can't recall.
I have a way with the past -
I think I love it all.

Well, I've read Albert Camus,
I've read the Tao Te Ching
enough times to realize
this shit don't mean a thing.
"Shit don't mean a thing," I say,
"it's all in how I think,"
so I'll sing a happy tune
and fix another drink.