Text: Burt Bacharach. The Long Division.

Did somebody try to catch your eye
And almost change your sad expression?
Did somebody's hand linger too long?
Must I now make my confession?
But you'll never know what suspicion is until you lie awake
And every night you ask yourself, "what am I to do? "
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two, there's nothing left over
How's it gonna feel?
This time it's real
It's not a temporary fracture
This is what you get
The stage is set for you and your attempted rapture
Is he gonna smile that indulgent smile when you come running home?

And every night you ask yourself, "what am I to do? "
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two, there's nothing left over
What am I gonna do?
I look at you
You seem to be so long past caring
Did somebody say we can still be friends?
Only to find out that it's a joke
So ask yourself
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two, there's nothing left over