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Lyrics:
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
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