My old lover calls early in the morningnLooking for another place to hidenHer new friends are already boringnShe is sitting on the pavement outsidenShe only comes to see me when she's has too much to drinknOnly says she loves me when she's too drunk to thinknnAin't it poetic, and ain't we grand?nI open the door with a drink in my handnGood to see you againnWhy can't we be friends?nnI know she has some trouble being truthfulnWe keep the conversation light and easynShe smiles when I tell she looks beautifulnShe smiles but I can tell she doesn't believe menShe is some kind of genius, everybody agreesnShe looks towards the bed room and then looks back to mennAin't it poetic, and ain't we grand?nI open the door with a drink in my handnTell me a story, go on sing me a songnGive me something to dream to, after you've gonenBaby, can't you see?nYou are no good for mennWho knows what we'll benWhen we wake from our dreamsnWhen we wake from our dreamsnWe'll see