| You like snow, but only if it’s warm |
| You like rain, but only if it’s dry |
| There’s no sentimental value to the rose that fell on the floor |
| There’s no fundamental excuse for the granted it’s taken for |
| 'Cause it’s easy not to |
| So much easier not to |
| And what goes around never comes around to you |
| To you |
| To you… |
| I like pain but only if it doesn’t hurt too much |
| Should I sit, should I wait, to receive |
| There’s an obvious attraction |
| To the path of least resistance in your life |
| Well, there’s an obvious aversion no amount of your insistence |
| Could make me try tonight |
| But it’s easy not to |
| So much easier not to |
| And what goes around never comes around to you |
| To you, to you, to you, to you, to you… |
| Ooh, this could get messy |
| But you don’t seem to mind… |
| Well, there’s an apprehensive, naked, little trembling boy |
| With his head in his hands |
| And there’s an underestimated and impatient little girl |
| Raising her hand |
| But it’s easy not to |
| So much easier not to |
| And what goes around never comes around to you |
| To you, to you |
| Ooh this could get messy, but you don’t seem to mind |
| Get up, get up, get up off of it |
| Get up, get up, get up off of it |
| And what goes around comes around to you |
| Wake up |
| Wake up… |