Lay here on the floor again,
Glancing up at the clock,
See it‘s quarter to ten,
And it‘s cold
The pain doesn‘t grow old,
To you,
Our love must be tainted
If that‘s how you paint it
But I don‘t move at all,
I‘m a fool for being,
A fool for being,
Your rag doll
Lay here alone in bed once more,
Take a look at the clock,
And it‘s quarter past four,
And you‘re gone,
Probably out with someone,
Someone else,
Our love must be tainted
If that‘s how you paint it
But I don‘t move at all,
I‘m a fool for being,
A fool for being,
Your rag doll.