Tortured by visions of you with a girlfriend She's got small hands, and you hold 'em like it's nothin You walk with her to her job at the thrift store She's wearing all pink, post ironic, good for her And I'm tortured by visions of you with a boyfriend He's older than me, hell his hair's almost graying He's got all the wisdom and humor and patience And you don't mind, kinda like that he's aging And I'm tortured by visions of you with a good wife She irons your shirts and she cooks you what you like She's having your baby, she's due in September What was that old fling's name? Now you don't remember And I'm tortured by visions of you with a husband Who knows how to build shit, and works for the government He spins you around while you dance to a record In hardwooded floor home, life couldn't be better