What a spoiled boy I've been

My mouth full, mess, my arms outstreched

I've got palm sweat, I'm smiling like I'm competition

Well, maybe I'm yours



She said, "I know you, you're a salesman's son

And you're pimping pretty junk"

And I said,

"What am I supposed to do

They've built the scenes around you

And I need more than this"

And she said, "what am I supposed to do

Look at what's become of you

And I need more than this"



"Go on then, hitch me up, baby,

If what I am is not enough

Because I do love the glow you get

When you're told word for word

How to think for yourself"



I'm tired

Of baring my teeth when I smile