And your purse is full of peppermints and promises
And you're knee-deep in sentiment and butterscotch
And you use my arm to dot your 'i'
Don't say, don't say, don't say anything to me. . .
Don't say, don't say, don't say anything at all
And your mouth is full of angry words and cinnamon
And your lips are stained with Catholic guilt and grenadine
And you use my arm to dot your 'I'
(But it doesn't matter, you never bothered)
Don't say, don't say, don't say anything to me. . .
Don't say, don't say, don't say, 'cause you don't know anything to me
Don't say, don't say, don't say anything at all
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