Mason D. Hoyt - OCD

He came and took my hand
And pretended to understand
He said, You've got OCD? well, I'm your guy
I've dealt with many cases of this kind
And he said that he could look right into me
But his words seemed so paper-thin to me

He went on to pick my brain
And concluded that I wasn't sane
I said, Tell me something I don't know
You're no help, you're the lowest of the low
He said, Don't speak to me in that tone
You don't want my help? well fine, you're on your own

He went on to go to jail
And he begged me to pay his bail
He said, I tried my best to help you out
Now be a good old boy and get me out
I said, But you left me all alone
You want my help? too bad, you're on your own

Written by:
Mason Hoyt

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find