You want to make me happy-
you know what to do,
you know what I want.
But there's a reason you're not doing it, giving it.
I've got so many possible reasons why;
each is a night of painful empty tears
(that is to say, no tears, since there isn't much of me left to be cried out)
I feel like your money and jokes are your ways of covering up, making up
(keeping me on the line)-
take them back. I've had too much.

And give me what I want
do to me what I want do it to me just me
Don't make me feel special-let me be special. Your special.
You know I want to.
Make me, call me your girlfriend
put your arm around me touch me let me touch you

Brand me, and then do anything, even everything.
Just make me yours. Write your name on the heart that's in your hands
big, bold, and bleeding deep, so it'll never go away. Then don't go away:
take me, and do everything.
Just to me

You want to make me happy-
you know what to do.