Well I was lost in conversation. When he called you were sick and blue. All that I could do. Is make your fears come true. You see I’m sick and tired of masturbation. Sick and tired of all this yuppie flu. All that I can do. Is make your fears come true. Then multiply. Multiply. Tears will multiply. Multiply. Well I was lost in contemplation. When he called you could not get through. And all that call could do. Is make your fears come true. You see I’m sick and tired of our confrontations. Sick and tired you stick to me like glue. All that I could do. Is make your fears come true. Then multiply. Multiply. Tears will multiply. Multiply. Your love for me will die. . *Ashtray Girrrl