Mixed messages

I am sick in love
Please take me to the emergency room
pump me full of chemicals and leave the light on
Please, leave the light on baby
There is too much darkness and misery and filth in this torn-up, third-rate world of ours
Oh baby, I am sick
Sick like plutonium oceans, drowning kittens in the gutter and gamma-ray suntans

I am a disease-ridden carrier of love
A terrifying four-letter-word
(don’t you say that in public, now)
El oh vee ee, love!

Holding hands, making eye contact, skin contact, wanting to touch lord know where and lord knows how

I’m in love like a waterboarding victim is just getting his face wet

I’ve got a terminal case of love, baby
And there is no cure
The prognosis isn’t good
Doctors say that I’ll be in love with you until I die.
Doctors tell me to kiss the single life goodbye
They say just close your love-struck eyes
And realize that you have no alibis

You are trapped
Like a rat
And you can’t
Turn back

Because baby, I am sick
I an lovesick with you.