Same old eight dollar cologne,
Same old he can’t be alone,
Same old cigarettes he rolls,
Same old Cozmo’s “Plastic Soul.”
Wisdom sketches on his face,
Still won’t learn to act his age,
Same old little tricks he plays,
I guess some things never change.
I’ll go back to him,
And he’ll go back to who he’s always been.
Maybe I, maybe I just love him,
Maybe I, maybe I just think,
All he needs is a little something,
Maybe that little something’s me.
Maybe I’ll be his exception
and he’ll never be the same.
Maybe I, maybe I can change him,
Unless he doesn’t want to change.
He’s still dying on his hill.
He still hides his dirty films.
He still never gets his fill
and I know he never will.
And here I am still handing out
the benefit of the doubt,
Knowing how he’ll let me down,
Knowing I know that by now.
Maybe I, maybe I just love him,
Maybe I, maybe I just think,
All he needs is a little something,
Maybe that little something’s me.
Maybe I’ll be his exception
and he’ll never be the same.
Maybe I, maybe I can change him,
Unless he doesn’t want to change.
If I go back to him,
We’re only gonna do this dance again.I know I can’t win.
It’s me against the man he’s always been.
Maybe I, maybe I just love him,
Maybe I, maybe I just think,
All he needs is a little something,
Maybe that little something’s me.
Maybe I’ll be his exception
and he’ll never be the same.
Maybe I, maybe I can change him,
Unless he doesn’t want to change.
Maybe I, maybe I can change him,
Maybe I, maybe I can change…