In Smithereens, The Search for Affinity

what is it exactly you want from me?
an arm, a leg, my own two feet?
should i beg for a hit in the head
from your hammer made of sledge?

you can’t live with an obsession
so i have an idea
let’s make love until it’s true
or becomes hatred
and i don’t really care if you call me another name
truth is, i like it about the same
the same, the same

i’m pulling coins from my sock to buy you a drink
‘cause you only hold me when you’re not thinking
i know that my nods ain’t much for me
but i’m one step away from talking to myself

am i to feel bad about it?
am i to feel bad about it?
i’m to feel bad about it
i’m to feel bad about it
i’m to feel bad about it

i won’t say i’m needy but i won’t say i’m fine
not a meeting of swords, or a tie that binds
so can’t we just be two troubled souls in need?
and nothing more to speak of, to speak of