Besedila:
Ben Folds Whatever Ever Amen

She plays wipe out on the drums The squirrels and the birds come Gather 'round and sing the guitar Oh I have you got nothing to say? When all words fail

the blame Throw it on the fire Here is the time that we didn't speak It seemed for years and years And here's a secret no one will ever know The reasons

All is quiet his tired eyes see figures jotted down And clothes all strewn around the bedroom floor Now nothing's adding up and nothing's making sense

So you wanted to take a break Slow it down some and have some space Fuck you too Give me my money back Give me my money back, you bitch I want my money

mom and dad went down to Charlotte They're not home to find us out And we drive Now that I have found someone I'm feeling more alone Than I ever have

I said what you wanted to hear And what I wanted to say, so I will take it back And all the dishes intact let them be broken Broken It's easy to be,

unhappiness That's alright, I guess I've got this great idea Why don't we pitch it to the Franklin fucking Mint? Fine pewter portraits of General Apathy and Major Boredom Singing whatever and ever Amen

Well, he shouted out his last word And he stumbled through the yard And she shattered her last China plate And spun off in the car When he lunched onto

{1,2,3,4} So you wanted To take a break Slow it down some And have some space Fuck you too Give me my money back Give me my money back You bitch I want