| Lyrics |
what's up with me would you believe i'm not exactly what i'm supposed to be a grand cliche on holiday from what i read i guess a dead giveaway a reluctant dilettante with no favorite work of art or beloved poem that i wrote in rome or somewhere i get every lesson a la carte and a purple heart starved for air je parle francais while i'm away though i never have a thing to say what's up with me complatency far too obvious for you to agree an idiot savant wondering if he's dumb or smart struck by cupid's arrow or a poison dart filled with fear and how everything might fall apart ending at the start insincere what's up with me born a scorpio my deviations on display well i feel all wrong though i'm a-okay (so they say...) i know better than to act this way hell i put you on touche what's up with me champs elysee suddenly she's there telling me that i'm to blame je suis content getting what i want though i whisper the wrong name au revoir no small faux pas thinking of you
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