My computer thinks I'm gay. I threw that piece of junk away. On the Champs-Elysées. As I was walking home. This is my last communique. Down the superhighway. All that I have left to say in a single tome. I got too many friends. Too many people that I'll never meet. And I'll never be there for. I'll never be there for. 'Cause I'll never be there. If I could give it all away. Will it come back to me someday?. Like a needle in the hay or an expensive stone. But I got a reason to declaim. The applications are to blame. For all my sorrow and my pain. A feeling so alone. I got too many friends. Too many people that I'll never meet. And I'll never be there for. I'll never be there for. 'Cause I'll never be there. Too many friends. Too many people that I'll never meet. And I'll never be there for. I'll never be there for. 'Cause I'll never be there. My computer thinks I'm gay. What's the difference anyway?. When all the people do all day. Is stare into a phone. I got too many friends. Too many people that I'll never meet. And I'll never be there for. I'll never be there for. 'Cause I'll never be there. Too many friends. Too many people that I'll never meet. And I'll never be there for. I'll never be there for. 'Cause I'll never be there. I'll never be there. I'll never be there. I'll never be there. I'll never be there