What My Angels Think of Me

We never talked about the stars that much You always said you don't believe in that stuff So I kept my visions to myself Love is a dog from hell Still, I believe god means well But I can't tell mama that I got dressed up To not look dressed up to call you up Oh, all my friends think that I'm in bed at home Yeah, I'm in bed but I'm not at home Oh, I hide it all so easily Tonight I wonder what my angels think of me No one down here on earth gets to know 'Cause I put my phone on airplane mode I might pretend that I was sick all weekend Like I did last weekend, they're all suspicious But I can't tell mama that I got dressed up To not look dressed up to call you up Oh, all my friends think that I'm in bed at home Yeah, I'm in bed but I'm not at home Oh, I hide it all so easily Tonight I wonder what my angels think of me Running out of excuses We're a bad idea, I knew it In a bed of my own making I ain't been listening lately Running out of excuses We're a bad idea, I knew it Oh, running out of excuses We're a bad idea, I knew it Heaven knows I keep making All the same mistakes, I hate it I'm running out of excuses We're a bad idea, I knew it Oh, I'm running out of excuses Running out of excuses Running out of excuses We're a bad idea, I knew it We're a bad idea, I knew it