
---
{Verse 1 â Funky Groove, Mild Panic}
{Bass groove, light drums, playful funky rhythm starts}
đ¶ When I moved in, I had a duffel bag...
A couple flannels, some jeans, not bad.
She had boxes labeled "Skincare - Face,"
"Body - Summer," and " Lingerie - Lace." đ¶ (Wait, what?)
đ¶ The shower had one bottle, maybe two,
Conditioner? Shampoo? Thatâs all I do!
But hers looks like a whole damn store...
Do we own a spa now?! What is all this for?! đ¶
{Music pauses, comedic beat}
---
[Chorus â Big, Dramatic, Overwhelmed]
[Full band kicks in â dramatic funky groove, exaggerated vocal energy]
đ¶ Why is there SO MUCH STUFF?!
How do you need this much STUFF?!
Babe, I love ya, but good LORD above yaâ
HOW MANY BODY SPRAYS IS ENOUGH?! đ¶ [Gags from the overpowering floral mist in the air.]
---
[Verse 2 â Laundry Confusion]
[Funky bass continues, light drum shuffle, playful frustration in delivery]
Folding clothes should be easy as hell
But somehow your closetâs shaped like a spell?!
These shirts? Cropped. This dress? Wrapped.
These pants? Waitâ they donât even have a back?! (What the hell?)
My shirts are rectangles, plain and fine.
Yours come in seventeen different kinds!
Babe, I love you, but please explainâ
How does a skirt turn into a cape?!
[Music pauses for comedic timing as she stares at a pile of confusing clothes.]
[A loose bra strap whips her in the face.]
---
[Chorus â Funky, Desperate, and Defeated]
[Chorus returns, slightly bigger instrumentation, backing vocals echoing âSTUFF! STUFF!â]
Why is there SO MUCH STUFF?!
How do you need this much STUFF?!
I wear a hoodie, sheâs got options galoreâ
What do you mean thatâs last seasonâs couture?! (I donât even know what that means!)
---
[Bridge â Make-Up Chaos]
[Music slows slightly, bass gets groovier, spoken-word build-up into chaos]
đ¶ Babe, your makeup is all over the sink...
I got a toothbrush and maybe some zinc.
But this is powders, bottles, and dustâ
Which oneâs blush, and which oneâs rust?! đ¶
đ¶ I hand her an eyeshadow, she rolls her eyes...
"Thatâs blush." OH, OKAY, SURE, I TRIED.
I just nod and hand her war paint instead...
Waitâwhy does this spray set whatâs already on your head?! đ¶ (Seriously, why?)
[Beat drops dramatically]
---
[Final Chorus â Full Acceptance, But Still Confused, even bigger energy, slight key change for maximum exasperation]
đ¶ Why is there SO MUCH STUFF?!
How do you need this much STUFF?!
I donât get it, I never willâ
But, babe, youâre hot, so fine, go fill
Every damn drawer, every inch of space...
Just donât touch my sideâI need ONE place. đ¶ (Please.)
[Music fades out]
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