Un blodymary

Un Blodymary, por favor.

I swear that I don't really want it but it's stuck,
it was not changed at all.
I said clearly, as I always wanted,
explained it on the phone call.

She wasn't very pleased,
she was quiet upset,
though she was prbobably lying.
I know that she does care,
and maybe if she's not there,
she at least leaving a message.

I was going somewhere to drink,
and then I was trying to think.
What's going on?
Un Blodymary, por favor.

Here goes nothing for nothing,
here goes our nothing to the trash can.
It's not that we're having something,
just fake smile and some rain.

It's not that we had something good,
but why don't I have any mood?
Any mood?
Un Blodymary, por favor.

Another cup of cocktake,
another cyp of depression.
Another cup of alcholoic booze,
another thing to be missing.

It's not that we had something good,
but why don't I have any mood?
Any mood?
Un Blodymary, por favor.

Here goes nothing for nothing,
here goes our nothing to the trash can.
It's not that we're having something,
just fake smile and some rain.

And what are we if we can't stand anymore?
Better go away and not waiting for more.
Not for more, anymore, oh, no more.

Un Blodymary, por favor.