Messy (Live Version At Inas Nacht)

You know I'm impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station?
It was like minus four degrees
And I, I get what you're sayin'
I just really don't wanna hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?

Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I'm gonna die lucky if I turn 33
Okay, so, yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I'm not skinny, and I pull a Britney every other week
Cut me some slack, who do you want me to be?

'Cause I'm too messy, and then I'm too goddamn clean
You told me, "Get a job," then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too goddamn dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the whole damn lot

You hate the whole damn lot
You hate the whole damn lot, lot, lot
You hate, you hate

It's taking you ages
You still don't get the hint, I'm not asking for pages
But one text or two would be nice
And please, don't pull those faces
When I've been out working my ass off all day
It's just one bottle of wine or two, but, hey

You can't even talk, you smoke weed just to help you sleep
Then why you out getting stoned at four o'clock?
And then you come home to me
And don't say hello because I got high again
And forgot to fold my clothes

'Cause I'm too messy, and then I'm too goddamn clean
You told me, "Get a job," then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too goddamn dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the whole damn lot

You hate the whole damn lot
You hate the whole damn lot
You hate the whole damn lot

'Cause I'm too messy, and then I'm too goddamn clean
You told me, "Get a job," then you ask where the hell I've been
And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth
I want to be me, is that not allowed?
And I'm too clever, and then I'm too goddamn dumb
You hate it when I cry, unless it's that time of the month
And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not
A thousand people I could be for you, and you hate the whole damn lot