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