I fell for her like a broken elevator.
I broke for her like a fallen elevator, too.
I don’t think that I’ll allow myself to break that way again,
I’m telling you.

But I’m lying to myself, like I always do.
You probably can see it, can’t you?
The way I look at you, it may be pretty obvious,
how fast I’m falling. How fast I’m falling.

And I want to keep it secret. I want to keep my feelings secret
but that’s not something I can do.
Everything I feel, everything I want can be seen right on my face,
you can tell it’s true.
And that’s just fine.
I’m no good at being clandestine.

If the spies caught me to get top secret info
and said torture would be used.
I’d say I would hold out, but I’d just beg
to be recused.

Not a bit of torture would prove necessary,
‘cuz I’d break out data instantly without any contrary
argumentation. Information would be theirs for the taking.
It wouldn’t matter how easy I’m breaking. I’m always breaking.

And I want to keep a secret. I want to hide all of the secrets
but that’s not something I can do.
Everything I feel, everything I believe can be seen right in my eyes.
You can see it’s you.
And that’s just fine;
I’ve never been good at clandestine.

I cannot tell a lie.
I ate the cherry pie.
I’m always do or die.
You ask me why ask why
and I’ll provide an answer.
My mother’s sign was cancer – No!
It was Aquarius! What about us?

And I want to keep a secret. I want to hide a secret
but that’s not something I ever could do.
Everything I feel, everything I want can be seen right on my face.
You must know it’s true.
And that’s just fine;
I’ll never be much good at clandestine.
(I don’t like wine.
My real name’s Bergerstein.
The growth is benign.
I’ve an increasing waistline.
I may have crossed the line…)