Lyrics:

We never talked about the stars that much
You always said you don't believe in that stuff
So I kept my visions to myself
Love is a dog from hell
Still, I believe God means well

But I can't tell mama that I got dressed up to not look dressed up
To call you up
Oh, all my friends think that I'm in bed at home
Yeah, I'm in bed, but I'm not at home
Oh, I hide it all so easily
Tonight, I wonder what my angels think of me

Hm-mm
No one down here on earth gets to know
'Cause I put my phone on airplane mode
I might pretend that I was sick all weekend
Like I did last weekend
They're all suspicious

But I can't tell mama that I got dressed up to not look dressed up
To call you up
Oh, all my friends think that I'm in bed at home
Yeah, I'm in bed, but I'm not at home
Oh, I hide it all so easily
Tonight, I wonder what my angels think of me

Running out of excuses
We're a bad idea, I knew it
In a bed of my own making
I ain't been listening lately
Running out of excuses
We're a bad idea, I knew it
Oh, running out of excuses
We're a bad idea, I knew it

Heaven knows I keep making all the same mistakes, I hate it
I'm running out of excuses
We're a bad idea, I knew it
Oh, I'm running out of excuses
Running out of excuses
Running out of excuses
We're a bad idea, I knew it
We're a bad idea, I knew it