Lovesick piano leadsheet with chords

You think that Cupid's got a bow,

well no, Cupid's got a needle.

It'll find a vein, careful, 'cause you'll bleed a little.

And pretty soon romance will marinate your brain,

then watch the temp'rature go up.

You hardly sleep because your sheets are wet.

Toss and turn for hours and your sweat is sweet,

smells like dying flowers.

You've got pain in your stomach like a long neglected tooth.

Dilated pupils that refuse to see the truth,

and that's you're sick.

You're sick, you might not get through it.

Your aching heart is racing and your brain can't catch up to it.

That's how you diagnose

an overdose of love.

You feel the itching on your skin.

Then in, right down to your skeleton,

you seize, you freeze, knees turn into gelatin.

Then you're on them praying that you'll keep some selfrespect,

but out of nowhere comes another side effect.

Like when you see his face,

you feel it in your eyes.

They start to water like the place between your thighs.

Whenever he gets close, that's an overdose of love.

You're sick of what you're saying,

you're sick of what you're thinking.

You'd have another drink except you're sick of what you're drinking.

While sitting there alone, longing for his touch,

a little is elixir, but too much is much too much.

You're burning up!

The spark that started it became a raging fire.

The cobwebs in your head turned into razor wire.

It's like a puzzle that you'll never get the trick of.

The trick is you admitting you're sick of what you're sick of.

You feel it on your tongue,

you feel it in your lips.

You feel it from your fingers to the thing between your hips.

You c'llapse on the floor, you shudder,

you tingle.

The paramedic comes, you wonder if he's single.

You are sick, sick, sick.

You're falling to pieces.

And the curse is the cure is worse than the disease is.

You're dead, you're toast, you've overdosed on love.

You've overdosed on love.

You've overdosed on love.

Baby, you are

sick!