Paperwork, Paperwork, Paperwork, Paperwork, Paperwork

Paperwork, paperwork
Wouldn't you promise her everything

Allocate me, allocate me R.A.M. Simple, he says
I got red, I'm in red It's always something, she said
There's disk drives and fax lines and computation routines
That say I got it all, I know I got everything
And now your lyrics are lies

I've seen the way that he looks at you
I've seen the way that he looks at you, looks at you
So I can't look at you

Wouldn't promise her everything?
Wouldn't you justify soft spots by any means, anti-means
What does this mean?

So what's the problem with the problem with the slight in between
So what's the between crimped cabling, you know you owe this me
I got red, I'm in red, it's always something it seems, so what's the problem?