She took me to this spot she called the World's Top,
Where she claimed, if you aimed, you could probably shoot God.
Then she laughed, like it was a universal joke,
I reached into my backpack for my lighter and smokes.
I said, "Maybe we should get down from here.
I know a place that's near where we can get some beer
And drown our sorrows". She said, "You got some time I could borrow?
A line I could follow? Coz my insides are hollow."
And I think, maybe, I loved her then
Coz she used her art against me like a weapon.
She painted pictures of Heaven, never painted of Hell,
But she rendered images of the places she dwelled.
She said, "That man there is God. Beside him is my mother
And the tombstone in the backyard represents my late brother,
But the bright colours are his spirit come back to life
So I can always see my surrounds when I'm in strife."

And it's ironic. Men and women are gin and tonic,
Separate they're bitter. Together they get you fucked up.

I lost her for a while til she hit the speed dial.
Said she got caught up in the smile of a child
With the off-hand speech that made is seem like a quote.
I reached into my backpack for my lighter and smokes.
I said we should catch up some time.
Meet up over coffee, discuss zodiac signs.
It made her laugh. She knew I didn't believe in it.
Instead she said "Come see what I've been painting and shit"
So I did. She took my cigarette as she spoke,
Saying "Freedom is ironic. Like a serious joke."
She always did that, knowing I had no comeback,
And even if I did my teeth still wouldn't crack.
I didn't even need to take the cigarette back,
Coz cigarettes are only one step away from ash.
And so was she.

And it's ironic. Men and women are gin and tonic,
Separate they're bitter. Together they get you fucked up.

I buried myself in work and acting like a jerk.
Pretending that my life consists of benefits and perks.
But in my mind she lurked, and in my thoughts she broke,
When I reached into my backpack for my lighter and smokes.
And since I lost her, thought she wouldn't come back,
Until I got that letter that fettered me on my door mat.
Drove to the address that she demanded
Feeling like a man on a desert island, stranded.
I found her beneath a blanket looking like death.
Gone was the art, bright colours were now regret.
No longer central, see she lay by the side,
And I could see a lost mental behind tired eyes.
I asked her "What, girl, do you want from me?"
She laughed and replied "I want your honesty.
Tell me, why is it you come when I call?
Like a puppy full of fear with no mind for fear at all?"
I didn't answer, see, I couldn't find the words.
I just stared at the shadow until my eyes hurt.
Then I blinked. Turned my back. Left the room.
While she reached into her backpack for her lighter and spoon.

And it's ironic. Men and women are gin and tonic,
Separate they're bitter. Together they get you fucked up. (repeat to out)