Green Corn

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