�� A tear that wore the mark of her thunder �� And it's been pulled down �� From off the wall �� Daring the billiard ball ��� To bait its own every try �� When the young one finds the doorman quite good-looking �� He'd consider me a fan �� Cause he's the judge of all that ��� He and maybe a dozen bros �� That have been pulled up by the dads ��� When the young one goes to gather all her catcalls �� I'll play dead �� Through every song �� Never trying to right �� The wrongs �� And that'll start a talk we don't wanna have �� I see the mark from that little thumbnail �� Now she's done with me �� Look at what she's done to me �� Out of sight without a mind �� Like I'm missing a needle's end �� Laying in my chair �� Just over here ���