It's the same old story as before. Your love becomes a chore, and you start needing more. The odd's of your affair not ending in weeping are pretty darn weak, statistically speaking. It's just inevitability, eventually you two would feel hostility. TV guaranteed you'd be happily married, but you'll be solitary when you are buried. Yet you strive to survive and thrive all by yourself. Be strong and right the wrongs with your mental health. Improve what you've worsened. Quit being perverse. Take your hurt and nurse it. Be a better person. But before she's gone for good, one thing needs to be understood. You say, "There's one thing you need to promise me, if you really want to see me happy...

"Once I'm gone to stay, put away your make up. Don't make whoopie after we break up. Stay alone every morning when you wake up. Don't make whoopie after we break up."

She's been true, through and through. This you've always known because every night, while uptight, you go through her phone. If anything will hurt your vanity and bring you insanity, it's her communicating with the rest of humanity. She's been patient with your sad games, like when you make love and you scream your dad's name. You'd rather she felt crappy and all alone than ever be happy with another bone. You know she'll never be your wife, you cause too much strife and you wreck her life. But you say, "I have problems, don't you see? I renounce any ounce of accountability! It's not my decision, I'm a musician! I'm supposed to always frown and have this downer disposition!" As fast as she can, she walks out, and you shout, "Let's talk it out!"

Perpetually rejected, your single life is hell. So you decide to pick up your cell. You reminisce, and you miss her kiss. She picks up her phone, and you say something like this: "Hi, how are you? Yeah, it's been a while. Sorry for not calling, it's just my style. Myspace says you're seeing someone new. And that reminds me boo, I guess I love you! This time its true. Will you be your spouse? No, that's not me driving past your house! I think about the good times with delight, like that one night we didn't drink or fight! Relive us, give us another chance! Attend to codependent romance!" She says, "I don't have time for this crap!" And you reply, "At least hear my rap!"

The moral of this rhymed expression is people are not prized possessions. And if you think love is all you need then put their glee above your greed and let go when it's time to leave. Don't put your dear through unneeded grief. To quote Kurt Vonnegut, hero to me: "Less love, more common decency!"

Lyrics submitted by JohnnyLurg

Don't Make Whoopie After We Break Up song meanings
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