Thirty Or Thirty One

You say that it’s just your time of the month
But these days it seems like it lasts for thirty days or thirty one
Even in February
You say that it’s really nothing that I’ve done
And not to fret, you’re just highly strung
Like a kite a million miles above the Pyrenese

But I can’t help but start to wonder
Whether all this is dragging us under
And laying us low
Because if this mood of yours is permanent
Then I fear that all the stars in the firmament
Will start to forget how to glow

And I can’t stop from thinking
That if this ship is sinking
That we might as well just bail out now
Cool it and call it off and a day
Dust ourselves down and go our own separate ways
Before the waters start pouring over the prow