Green Corn

Sometimes I think of all the places where I don’t
wanna go Then I think of all the things that I don’t wanna do And when I think of all the people that I don’t wanna
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 thru 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