IT'S A SUNDAY night and there's one light on in the 'wide. It's raining outside, means another day stuck in the mire. There weren't no peace of mind, I wasn't feeling too fine, had to cross the shitty limits just for Weber City wine 'cause I'm sick of beer--- I hate it here! It's uninspired, I'm tired of waiting for the sun to appear.
I'm stuck and I'm fucked with no place to hide, living in a goddamn doublewide. If I's a locked up, knocked up, blushing bride, I wouldn't be at odds. And it doesn't feel much like making it, riding 'round town in my piece of shit. These earthbound hicks just make me sick--Oh God!
And it ain't Hollywood Cool lounging 'round the cesspool next to front yard car lots and a white trash bimbo with beach towel curtains and a shot glass vase in her window.
Lately it's bringing me down, what I used to be bound to be.
Now I can't even be what I've become, but I ain't dumb enough to have no dreams.
Now it's 4 a.m. and the moon is gone. I'm on the front lawn singing every melancholy song I know. It's just an echo on the pond in the back of beyond.