Fuck you clown

Some people say I've been wasting my time. Letting many a golden opportunity slip by. But I don't believe in waste or regret. My time is just spent like money. And when it's all used up, at least I had a few laughs. But the lazy days don't pay the bills. And I got a bottle of of gin for some cheap thrills. Still I hop in my shitty car, not of age for a single bar. But when it's legal where's the fun in that. Plus I'm just here for a cruise and good tunes. Don't have the gas money, and I'm burning oil. Fast forward shuffle, but it's all miss and no hit. Cuz I'm only one of the millions, looking for Alex Chilton. So take me away Westerberg, my foots to the floor. Driving to someplace that I pretend is home. Because I've never been a regular anywhere. I wandered around Jersey and Philly both. A few people take me in. And for awhile I pretend I don't exist outside these scattered beer ash trays, and dirty floors we sit on. If you gotta go I'll keep your spare couch company. If you kick me out I can just curl up on your steps. Wait for you to miss me hanging around again. All my fucking "wasted" time. Piercings, tattoos, and cigarettes. Loud guitars, and obnoxious conversation. Long drunken walks. I miss the city lights. I miss feeling gloomy and dark when I follow the R7 tracks. I wanna lay in the middle and practice feeling numb. My arms out the window, and I can feel every hair move with the wind. My stomach is twisted. And I ride back to the house I stay at. Where they all think I'm off balance. Another car ride unanswered. Just as nostalgic as when I walked out the door.

EVERYBODY GET DANGEROUS!!!! BOOOOOO-YAH!