Drunk Emails

When we were kids, the television was our babysitter.
The Internet is not our babysitter.
The Internet is a drunk librarian, who never stops talking,
and is always trying to get into our pants.

When I send you drunk e-mails,
And you send me no reply,
Where is the love you feel,
That you give me in the daytime?


Yes these are loaded questions,
Sent to you late at night,
But baby I still need answers,
That I'll take to heart at sunrise.


When I send you drunk e-mails,
And you send me no reply,
Where is the love you feel,
That you give me in the daytime?



Chock-full of typos I know,
Language and grammar die,
Questions that must be asked though,
I won't have the heart at sunrise.


When I send you drunk e-mails,
Why do you not reply?

THE SMALL SINS