I liked you better when you had a soul,
before the Mr. Sad-eyed Lonesome Handsome
deal. I liked you better in the hole,
before you held a ton of hearts for ransom.
I liked you when you didn’t have a song,
before you cast the barstool as the leading
man. I liked you when your hair was long.
I liked you better when your eyes were bleeding.
I liked when you were wrong and I was right,
when I could face you down and get on top.
I liked you better just the other night.
I’d like to know the words to make you stop.
I’d like to disembowel your sacred cow.
I’d like to find out how you like me now.
