Guess I Gotta Guess

I've got more hang-ups than a bad telemarketer (whoa-oh)

but will she meet me first before she disconnects?

and I hope and pray that she initiates (whoa-oh)

this conversation first because I'm scared to death.

I couldn't be less appraochable

if totally engulfed in flames (whoa-oh)

when we finish, pack and load the Pettit van.

I'd just like to hear a nice remark from her (whoa-oh)

because this loneliness is wearing kinda thin.

CHORUS:

guess I gotta guess why all the girls avoid me like poison

is it 'cause i'm seven feet wide, or I act like I'm seven years old?

(x2)

is there a point to wondering,

and pondering, and over-thinking this? (whoa-oh)

or should I finsh my set, load the van and leave?

is it something like she thinks she's being a pest? (whoa-oh)

do I look dumb? is something in my teeth? (gross)

CHORUS

my biggest problem is that

all my favorite girls are too shy to talk to me

and I'm so nervous I could hurl.

so I try to talk to them,

but I keep my mouth shut

and end up looking like a snob

'cause I'm afraid of screwing up.