Wish I could be more less Wish I could be less more Underneath the dress is a gun Pointing at the floor Wish I could be less me And a little more like you I'd finally confess To all the things that you make me do Oh I've been singing all I can today But nothing seems to make me gay Maybe the critic was right And my work is just therapy Or maybe she was wrong And on the rag feeling slightly icky Maybe I would rather Just be on speed Or perhaps it would help if I had the right To get my sad ass married Oh I've been singing all I can today But nothing seems to make me gay As in happy