Chris Garneau

I shoulda killed you myself.
It was always a dream of mine.
I coulda used a little help,
But red wine's been a good friend of mine.

I've got sad news.
Take off your shoes.
Sit down for a while,
A while.
A while, now.

I'm wearing me out.
I'm wearing my old clothes.
I'm writing all new poems.
I'm riding in my car.

Oh the children, they're just babies.
Little baby-sized socks and shoes,
And I think that maybe
I should keep them away from you.

I'll crawl in and then
I'll creep out, out loud.
I've got a job.
I'm not proud.
I'm not proud.

I'm wearing me out.
I'm wearing my old clothes.
I'm writing all new poems.
I'm riding in my car.

Sad, sad.
I've got sad news.
I do.
Sad news.
I've got sad news.

But it's all over now.
It's all done.
Red, Red Rover:
I can't remember the game.

I'm wearing me out.
I'm wearing my old clothes.
I'm writing all new poems.
I'm riding in my car.