Disclaimers in part one.
Notes A: Chorus
All of a sudden, he's tired.
He's tired.
Doesn't he notice, doesn't he care, I've got circles under my eyes and my neck aches so I can hardly nod. Sleep is like a foreign planet.
But he's tired, so let's call the National Guard.
I react badly to his declaration of tiredness, and he exclaims that he's leaving, he's going out, he's going to find someone who doesn't need his existence to validate their own.
He's going out.
And what can I do? What can I do but yell and say fine, and watch him go?
It's not like I've never done this to him.
It's not. It's not like he's never stared at me with hurt in his eyes the next morning, wondering who I was with.
He's tired.
End notes.
Notes A: Chorus
All of a sudden, he's tired.
He's tired.
Doesn't he notice, doesn't he care, I've got circles under my eyes and my neck aches so I can hardly nod. Sleep is like a foreign planet.
But he's tired, so let's call the National Guard.
I react badly to his declaration of tiredness, and he exclaims that he's leaving, he's going out, he's going to find someone who doesn't need his existence to validate their own.
He's going out.
And what can I do? What can I do but yell and say fine, and watch him go?
It's not like I've never done this to him.
It's not. It's not like he's never stared at me with hurt in his eyes the next morning, wondering who I was with.
He's tired.
End notes.
