The things I used to like, I don't like any more, I want a lot of other things I've never had before, It's just like my mamma says, I sit around and mourn Pretending that I am so wonderful and knowing I'm adored I'm as restless as a willow in a

You want to take me to a doctor To talk to me about my mind To try to give directions to some places That I don't really want to find Trouble in me is not related To things that I might say or do I'm really not that complicated Your good doctor friend,