Tried to see you yesterday   I had so many things I wanted to say   Yet when knocked your mother answered the door   Said I can see you no more      Why? I asked her politely   You're not her type, she said, you're too carefree   So take your bunch of wild petunias and go   We don't want ya here no more      Now, why does it always have to be me?   Who gets picked upon just like three   Daisies in a jam jar looking bored   Or three Spanish bullfighters that have just been gored      Why don't you try helping me   By telling your mother how charming I can be   And maybe the next time that I knock on your door   She won't send me away, no more      Now, why does it always have to be me?   Who gets picked upon just like three   Daisies in a jam jar looking bored   Or three Spanish bullfighters that have just been gored      Why don't you try helping me   By telling your mother how charming I can be   And maybe the next time that I knock on your door   She won't send me away, no more