Karen, please come back I miss the kids
Karen, please come back I miss the kids
How old's he again, twenty-four?
Is he still your yoga instructor?

Karen, I don't have a bed anymore
I sleep on a futon on the hardwood floor
Can you blame me? I'm quite poor
Why'd you have to be such a whore?

And I will write you songs
Until my lungs fall out
Until you hear me out
She took the fucking kids
Please, hear me now
All I want's for you to listen

Karen, I keep your hair in the drain
A little piece of you that still remains
Sometimes I stroke it

My pain burns hot as my torch
Placed outside your door
Now you'll see why you're a—
Nope, already done that one
I'll die in ritual fire
Tear my world apart
Like you did to my heart, oh

Karen, please come back I miss the kids
Was my arson not enough to convince you?
Give me back my son
So I can stop sending you my porn
So open up your door
Karen, I've been thinking
Karen, I know I've been bad
Probably shouldn't have killed your dad
But, is it really grounds for divorce? (Karen)
No
No