Serving Time

Oh just pull yourself together.

I'm getting sick of this,
You turning up here all the time,
Like I'm some kind of agony aunt.
Brown those up before you put them anywhere near my pass.

I mean, I don't see why you can't just get on with things. You seemed perfectly capable of it when you were adamant that we "couldn't survive Uni" all those years ago.

That you had to "go your own way", self discovery, all that bullshit.

Fine.
So there's another girl on the scene.
Good for you.
So why are you asking me what you should do?
Isn't that why we split up in the first place?
Because I was,
Doing,
Everything,
Wrong,
Get,
In,
The fucking,
Pan.

Honestly.

Right,
Well so far all you've done,
Is come here saying how perfect she is,
So my first question would be,
What the fuck is your problem?
And d'you know what the answer is?

It's you.

You're your own worst enemy,
But the problem is there's two sides to that,

On one hand,
You over-analyse.
Always reading into things,
That have nothing to hide.
Plate up in five
Everybody!

But on the other hand,
You're too insecure to let anything leave your head,
And as long as you keep that going,
Where're those peas?!
Then you'll be fine.
Because she'll never find out just how,
Neurotic and pathetic you can be.

Just don't let too much you spill over,
If that makes sense.
Just be yourself.
Because despite everything you've done to me,
There's still a part of me that needs to see you happy.

Now if you don't mind,
I've got a restaurant to run.
Lamb or shrimp?
Neither?
Peasant.