Ditto

You don't like my politics

You're not impressed with my magic tricks

You call "cruel" my rapier wit (and) think my poetry is drivel

Well, I don't care for your style of clothes

Your choice of food turns up my nose

And when it comes to love and hate then I suppose

We're both somewhere in the middle

(but when you say)

"I want you", I say "Ditto"

You say, "I need you", I say "Ditto"

No I'm not kiddin' you kiddo

Right here we got devotion

Let me second your motion... "Ditto"

You don't like my old pick-up truck

Or the things I'll do to make a buck

The fact I seem always down on my luck frightens you a little

Well, I don't always get your attitude

Your condescension can be flat and rude

Where this is leading is like your mood, something like a riddle

(when you say)

We got in common that we don't have much in common

Ah, but these distractions are just a fraction

Of what you and me apparently been wantin'

You always mock my guitar licks

My metaphors, my puns and quips

You don't dig my friends, you call them hicks

It's your penchant to belittle

You act like it's a favor when you hang around

And you never show affection to my old hound

You don't eat your hot cakes till they've cooled down

I like 'em hot off the griddle

(now you say)