You make me
You make me
You make me
That’s what you do to me

You make me wanna hide a weasel in my shorts
You make me wanna phone home
You make me wanna write a dozen book reports
Then pack myself in styrofoam
Sometimes you make me want to build a model of the Eiffel Tower out of Belgian waffles

You make me
You make me
You make me
That’s what you do to me

(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what, what you do to me

You make me wanna hang out in a trailer park
Then take my hamster to the beach
You make me wanna do my laundry in the dark
And use a recommended bleach
When I’m with you I don’t know whether I should study neurosurgery or go to see the Care Bears movie

You make me
You make me
You make me
That’s what you do to me

(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what, what you do to me

That’s what you do to me
That’s what you do to me
That’s what you do to me
You make me wanna break the laws of time and space
You make me wanna eat pork
You make me wanna staple bagels to my face
Then remove ‘em with a pitchfork
You know there’s something quite unusual about you but I can’t exactly seem to put my finger on it

You make me
You make me
You make me
That’s what you do to me

(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what, what you do to me

(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what you do
(You make me) That’s what you do-do-do-do-do to me