Apartment at dusk: a grey Brooklyn sky, a train that I'm missing. A cheap travel mug that leaks from the side, damp coat and mittens.      If you don't find a steady job now, if you don't find a steady job now. Oh no. If you don't find someone to love now, if you don't find someone to love now. Oh no. You will die freezing cold and alone.      They've got full blown homes. They're married with kids (and appliances.) I'm doing dishes. It's cold in your car the heat doesn't work. Baby, we're scramblin'.      If you don't find a steady job now, if you don't find a steady job now. Oh no. If you don't find someone to love now, if you don't find someone to love now. Oh no.      You're alone and you're wet in a hospital bed and your family and friends will inherit your debt as you breathe from machines. Yeah, I know it sounds mean but you're probably gonna die alone.      If you don't find a clock to punch now or find yourself a steady fuck now. Oh no. Your family and friends will inherit your debt and you're probably gonna die alone. Yeah, your family and friends will inherit your debt and you're probably gonna die alone.