I don't like your pistol
I don't like your chest
I don't like to do the thing you like to do best
I don't' like your
I don't like your quips
Don't dig your sense of humor
Or your thin little lips
I don't like your timin
Hey I don't like your drugs
And I don't like the way you dole out cheap little hugs

Chorus: So tell me- What am I doing? (what is she doing?)
       What's my reward? (What's her reward?)
       You know, it ain't my purpose
       To be just a Sheath for your Sword

You call me All the time, but then
You don't have Much to Say
You Try and book my Time up
By the Night and By the Day
You Tell me that you Miss Me
Whenever we're apart
But when we get together
You turn Fighting into ART
You say "We got Much More than Just
Those Physical Things!"
But You don't send me Flowers
And You don't make me Sing!

Chorus

I know we lack the real thing
We're on that Other track
We rendezvous conveniently
To rub each other's back
But I want someone Gentle
A Compromising soul
But You just want to Run things
You Like to Have Control
You want someone who Gives In
Well Baby That Ain't Me
I've Got my Own Ideas
And I'm as Stubborn as can be

Final Chorus:   So tell me What WAS I doing? (what WAS she doing?)
               What WAS my reward? (What WAS her reward?)
               You know it ain't my purpose
               To be just a Sheath for your Sword

               (Repeat final chorus)