Why does it seem I cant do anything right, even while I lay in bed at night.
The choices i make don't seem to please, it seems like i'm just a great big disease.
Why must the people apprive of me; they're all like a bunch of pesky bees.
So laught at me, and laugh at me hard, your incompetence shows with all the harsh blows.
I guess these things will never change when jealous people are always in range.
I know what people often think...Why does he make the choices that stink.
But something I know that people dont know is I've made a choice im proud to show.
Most people come to say that there is no way to have a love as white as a dove.
My finger goes flying in every way as I grin, and laugh , and walk away.
My heart is won by the one to whom I can spew I love you.
But now and then when I am down, I remember the question well known all'round.
Why does it seem like I can't do anything right, even while I lay in bed at night.