Who makes up all the rules
About those girls I want?
Who tells them all to laugh?
Who tells them all
To talk about me?
And I'm not sure what
My purpose is for being here

Why do they, why do they
Always kick me in the groin
When I come near?

And I'm not complaining
It just hurts after a bit

I don't know what I'm feeling
I'm just so sick of seeing
All those dumb, lame
And retarded broads

Who often just sit, kick back
As I am not so relaxed
I often wonder
Why they act so odd

Because no worse a time
When it's just your time to
Think you should
Make your move
It doesn't work
As you're just a jerk
With no excuse

What about that situation
All night procrastination
Taking to the point when
You lead her to her door

There is nothing left
There to say
I guess you best be
On your way
But before you go
You got to do that chore

No worse a time
When it's just your time to
Think you should
Make your move
It doesn't work
As you're just a jerk
With no excuse

Please won't you buy in
I'm always tryin'
I keep on tryin'
There's only so much pride
That I can lose

I hope that when you see me
You see right through me
Come on now, honestly
I'm so sick of endin' up
Without a clue

Copyright: Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Mark Hoppus, Scott Raynor, Tom DeLonge