Teeth in My Hair

Good morning, stranger, your teeth are in my hair,

I don't know your name,

don't know where you were last year.

Your socks are on the ceiling,

my dignity's on the floor,

And I'm pretty sure you're the one who's got the door.

Was it love?

Was it wine?

Was it both? I'd like to know,

but I can't quite say which.

Good morning, good morning,

what a mess,

You're a stranger, I'm a mess,

it's a testament. Good morning,

good morning, no regrets,

Just a stain on the sheet and a note I won't write

yet.

You're checking your phone like I'm a parking meter,

I'm checking my face like I'm a first-time voter.

You said "I'll call you back" — that's a lie,

I'm sure, But I'll let you have the coat,

you've been here longer.

Was it fate? Was it free?

Was it both?

I'd like to know,

but the coffee's getting hot.

Good morning, good morning,

what a mess,

You're a stranger, I'm a mess,

it's a testament. Good morning,

good morning, no regrets,

Just a stain on the sheet and a note I won't write

yet.

If you're wondering

— no, I'm not calling you.

But also,

I'm not not calling you.

That's the whole thing.

That's the whole song.

Good morning, good morning,

what a mess,

You're a stranger, I'm a mess,

it's a testament. Good morning,

good morning, see you never,

Probably not.