Seven Mary Three

It's not the clothes that she borrows,
just call me out, 'cause you know I'll follow
Back through the backdoor and into June,
luck will sleep with the October-June
Sometimes in deep thought, I'm 31,
she's wanting kids, it sounds like fun
I teach them to sing along,
sure beats the end of a smoking gun
And I know that God exsists,
'cause I feel him sometimes
But she takes up the sheets
by telephone lines
When I'm home she says,
"Baby, you're alive"
You're not really here,
you've gone away