1. If you ain’t a quarter Dutch, you ain’t much.
I can make a meal out of harboring a crush and plain mush.
Looking at me like I’ve got one foot in the urn.
I said I couldn’t stay, never said I wouldn’t return.
Time is running out, yeah, I know that fear.
Am I writer slash rapper or a stockboy/cashier?
No one’s got a recent portrait of me in their wallet.
I put my phone number in “Fact” and no one called it.
Get my shoe size from the footprints on my tongue.
I’ve gotta stick to my squirt-guns while I’m young.
I’m still young, right? But I have an admission:
Some of my friends’ kids are flappin’ and hissin’.
International renown, I’m in on the ground floor
’Cause I’ve got a couple fans in El Salvador.
My slow jams bring your mating rituals to a halt.
I am self-deprecating to a fault.

Chorus: Sooner or later you’ll find me out
And the truth will confirm your doubts.
I didn’t dress up for the big reveal.
I’ve got no clue how you’re supposed to feel.
Sooner or later you’ll find me out
And the truth will confirm your doubts.
You’ll wonder what all the fuss was for.
I’m a voice in your ear and not much more.

2. I resent auditions, I don’t believe in goddesses,
But I don’t wanna hang out with the doubting Thomases.
When I share my feelings, I usually regret it.
Backpedaling, explaining I was kidding when I said it.
It’s hard to resist when you get to caressin’.
If nothing else, I wanna give a man-eater indigestion.
Producing grandchildren at a sub-glacial pace
’Cause I won’t fall victim to a dumb angel-face.
Guide me, dear ones, shine a light for me
And tonight I’ll read you a Bedtime Story.
You know me from somewhere, you’re pretty impressed.
Check the autograph later, it says “Celebrity Guest.”
I’m drinking snowmelt, and I’m eating noodles raw.
I’m Schediahwhick scheming out another coup d’état.
I’m making house calls: minimal cost or risk.
I am not a Swiss doctor, but I am Dr. Swiss!

Chorus

3. Let me answer your question before you ask it:
No, I do not have a Southern accent.
I can’t save the day, pay your debts, or right wrongs
But at least I never fake-laugh in my songs.
I’m sorry if I ever gave you crummy advice
But it’s difficult to be both funny and nice.
Aim Less came first and you liked it better, huh?
It’s still the M-I-S-P-R-O-N-O-U-N-C-etcetera.

Chorus (2x)