| My face is finished, my body’s gone |
| And I can’t help but think standin' up here |
| In all this applause and gazin' down |
| At all the young and the beautiful |
| With their questioning eyes |
| That I must above all things love myself |
| That I must above all things love myself |
| That I must above all things love myself |
| I saw a girl in the crowd |
| I ran over I shouted out |
| I asked if I could take her out |
| But she said that she didn’t want to |
| I changed the sheets on my bed |
| I combed the hairs across my head |
| I sucked in my gut and still she said |
| That she just didn’t want to |
| I read her Eliot, read her Yeats |
| I tried my best to stay up late |
| I fixed the hinges on her gate |
| But still she just never wanted to |
| I bought her a dozen snow-white doves |
| I did her dishes in rubber gloves |
| I called her Honeybee, I called her Love |
| But she just still didn’t want to |
| She just never wants to |
| Dammit! |
| I sent her every type of flower |
| I played her guitar by the hour |
| I patted her revolting little chihuahua |
| But still she just didn’t want to |
| I wrote a song with a hundred lines |
| I picked a bunch of dandelions |
| I walked her through the trembling pines |
| But she just even then didn’t want to |
| She just never wants to |
| I thought I’d try another tack |
| I drank a litre of cognac |
| I threw her down upon her back |
| But she just laughed and said |
| That she just didn’t want to |
| I thought I’d have another go |
| I called her my little ho |
| I felt like Marcel Marceau |
| Must feel when she said |
| That she just never wanted to |
| She just didn’t want to |
| I got the no pussy blues |
| I got the no pussy blues |
| I got the no pussy blues |
| God! |
| Damn! |
| I got the no pussy blues |
| I got the no pussy blues |
| I got the no pussy blues |
| I got the no pussy blues |
| Yeah! |
| Yeah! |