For a master of deception and subterfuge

You've made yourself quite the bed, to lie in

Do your time traveling through the tanning booth

So you don't let the sun catch you crying

So predictable, I know what you're thinking

My teeth are beating and my knees are weak

It's as if there's something up with the wiring

You can poke your head behind the mountain peak

It don't have to mean that you've gone into hiding

So predictable, I know what you're thinking

I'm watching your every move

I feel the tears are coming on

It won't be long

It won't be long

Straight from the cover shoot

There's still a trace of body paint

On your legs and on your arms and on your face

And I'm keeping on my costume

And calling it a writing tool

And if you're thinking of me

I'm probably thinking of you

There's still a trace of body paint

On your legs and on your arms and on your face

There's still a trace of body paint

On your legs and on your arms and on your face

There's still a trace of body paint

On your legs and on your arms and on your face

There's still a trace of body paint

On your legs and on your arms and on your face

So predictable, I know what you're thinking

Ooh, hah, yeah