From the sky, drop like confetti

“So I wanna know who’s on your phone. Makin’ me paranoid, makin’ me bad. Makin’ me sad, makin’ me crazy and makin’ me feel like I needed to ask. I wanna know if you’re at home. And if you’re at home, baby, are you alone? Are you alone? Answer your phone, oh baby. Oh, and I don’t mean to get so caught up and insecure ‘bout all the things you say, say, say, say, say. Oh, and I don’t mean to be jealous. It’s just careless people almost drive me mad. Singin’, singin’, singin’ ooh-la-la he breaks my heart. I know he thinks about her when he plays guitar. And ooh-la-la, my American boy. Singin’, singin’, singin’ ooh-la-la he breaks my heart. I know he thinks about her when he plays guitar. And ooh-la-la, my American boy, singin’, singin’, singin’. My American boy. American, American, American boy. Oh, it’s my American boy. American, American, American boy. Oh, it’s my American boy.”