Sometimes i think of all the places where i don't wanna go
then i think of all the things i don't wanna do
and when i think of all the people i don't wanna meet
i close my eyes and go to sleep
Tully, baby, you're trapped behind your golden bars
i'm the prince of poverty hangin' out in bars
your life's a mercedes, a mansion with a pool
my life's on a bus stop just waiting for some fuel
Your obviousness disgusts me i see thru your macho lies
i'll fight everything you stand for
there's something in your purse baby, my head is getting sore
maybe what we had was just green corn