Julia, take your man home
He's just sitting at the bar
Carving shapes that look like dicks into the wood

Julia, take your man home
He keeps running in and out of the street
With a weed between his teeth he calls a rose

Julia, take your man home
He keeps talking about New Jersey and cocaine
And some person he keeps saying is made of glass

Julia, take your man home
Lay him down on a bed of thorns
And I've got a feeling
He'll say sorry
Come tomorrow morning
And when he wakes in a bed of thorns
I've got a feeling
He'll say sorry
Just wait for tomorrow morning

When I asked him if he needed to go home
He said, "the beating heart of a lonely man
Is nothing but an unheard decrescendo"
Julia, take your man home
He keeps filling up the room with smoke
And then claiming that it's just his ghost

Said, Julia, take your man home
Lay him down on a bed of thorns
And I've got a feeling
He'll say sorry
Come tomorrow morning
And when he wakes in a bed of thorns
I've got a feeling
He'll say sorry
Just wait for tomorrow morning
And you can tell him for yourself
That you ain't gonna pluck
No rose petals out of his teeth for him

To say that he loves you
Would be unfair towards you, and
To say that he needs you
Would be unfair towards you too
To say that he loves you
Would be unfair towards you, and
To say that he needs you
Would be unfair towards you too