Lovesick

lovesick and moaning like a puppy,
I'm a guppy in the mouth of a whale.
because it comes so quick, and never fails to shock me
(hasn't got me, but it's hot on my trail,)

and everybody has been there,
so how come nobody knows
where to tell me to go from here?
nothing to say but, “baby, that's the way it goes.

you're lovesick and tired of being lonely,
and there's only one way to make it worth your time:
just kick back, baby, and enjoy it
cause boy, it must be better than just feeling fine!”

so I'm lovesick, and wishing I could take it.
I can fake it, but nobody's fooled,
cause it's a hard kick, an elbow to the ego
(where will she go if I can't play it cool?)

I’m wishing I had a witness
to all them pretty things he said!
cause I just can't justify this.
so how do I explain it to the voice in my head?

who says, “you're lovesick, and might as well be frantic.
cause nothing real's romantic,
so you can't be satisfied.
just stick to sorry, sad and hopeless,
you'll have to learn to cope until you're feeling' fine.”

everybody has been there,
so how come nobody knows
where to tell me to go from here?
nothing to say but “baby, 
that's the way it goes.”
baby, that's the way it goes.