Karen, Please Come Back I Miss The Kids

Karen, please come back
I miss the kids
Karen, please come back
I miss the kids
How old's he again, twenty-four?
Is he still your yoga instructor?

Karen, I don't have a bed anymore
I sleep on a futon on the hardwood floor
Can you blame me? I'm quite poor!
Why'd you have to be such a whore?

And I will write you songs
'Til my lungs fall out
'Til you hear me out

She took the fucking kids!
Please, hear me now
All I want is for you to listen

Karen, I keep your hair in a drain
A little piece of you still remains
Sometimes I stroke it

My pain burns hot as my torch
Placed outside your door
Now your seeing why you're a
(No, already done that one)

I'll die in ritual fire
Tear my world apart
Like you did to my heart, oh

Karen, please come back
I miss the kids
Was my arson not enough to convince you
Give me back my son
So I can stop sending you my porn
Just open up your door

And Karen, I've been thinking

Karen, I know I've been bad
I probably shouldn't have killed your dad
But is it really grounds for divorce?
No, no!

Is it... Is this on?