I know not when to stop even though everyone else knows when I should, And my fingers keep on typing in perfect unison (yeah right, like they could!)

I know not when to laugh or cry I get them totally screwed up. 'Cause when Jack died in Titanic I laughed so hard I almost threw up.

I know not who to trust nor who to call my friend. Don't know about the rules and which ones I can bend.

I know not how to lose the weight that is on my hips, Nor how to keep the lipstick from smearing across my lips. (Actually all across my face, but that doesn't rhyme.)

I know not what to do at all about my ex-man. But at least with that I have a really KILLER plan.

In fact I don't know anything of importance. Not one tiny clue. And to make it even worse than all that, I can't find something that works right here!!

Welcome to my bomb shelter.