Last American Virgin

Another Sunday in the cafe
He leans over to me
Pushing forward in his chair
He whispers privately
"They don't know where we go
When the lights turn low
You and me, we're the same
We know we all have to go."
He writes his name in the soap on the countertop
I grip my chair with white knuckles
Wishing that he would stop
Don't you dare try and compare
I'm nothing like you
You're bringing me down (you're bringing me down) (you're bringing me down)
You're bringing me down
You're bringing me down (you're bringing me down) (you're bringing me down)
You're bringing me down
At a bus stop in the rain he slithers over to me
Pulling at his greasy hair
I know he thinks I'll agree
"They don't see what we see
When we close our eyes
You and me, we're the same
I know we both fantasize"
He pulls his jacket closer to him as he winks at the night
Out of sight
I'd rather walk 'cause something just isn't right
Don't you dare try and compare
I'm nothing like you
You're bringing me down (you're bringing me down) (you're bringing me down)
You're bringing me down
You're bringing me down (you're bringing me down) (you're bringing me down)
You're bringing me down
You're bringing me down
You're bringing me down
You're bringing me down
You're bringing me down