Stand for me; I stand against you.

Where do you stand
When this barstool on my ass
Won't stand on it's own four legs,
Or me on my own two.

I stole this pen from the cheap hotel we spent our nights in
Remembering that time you stole the soaps,
Then threw a fit when they charged us for them.

We have to keep running
Something's gotta give
I just loved you, because it's automatic
Who knew that catchy slogan would come back to bite

Where can I stand
When my beloved barstool won't stand on four legs
We sat at the front booth instead tonight
Drinking Johnnie Walker Red,
And singing songs about hotels
And the way my hand soap smells

Something's gotta give
I loved you because it's automatic
We loved automatic
And it's come back to bite the big one;
Love bit the hand that fed,
We'll keep running until something gives
Until someone gives it up to you