Sometimes I think of all the places where I don't want to go
Then I think of all the things I don't want to do
And when I think of all the people I don't want to 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 through 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

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): MIKE BURKETT