Sad News

I should have killed you myself It was always a dream of mine I could have used a little help But red wine's been a good friend of mine I got sad news Take off your shoes Sit down for a while A while, a while Oh I'm wearing me out I'm wearing my old clothes I'm writing all new poems I'm riding in my car Oh, the children, they're just babies Little baby-sized socks and shoes And I think that maybe I should keep them away from you I crawl in and then I creep out outloud I got a job, I'm not proud, I'm not proud, no I'm wearing me out I'm wearing my old clothes I'm writing all new poems I'm riding in my car Sad, sad, I got sad news I got sad news I got sad news But it (sad, sad, sad, sad) it's all over now It (sad, sad, sad, sad) It's all done Red, red rover I can't remember the game I'm wearing me out I'm wearing my old clothes I'm writing all new poems I'm riding in my car