Chinese food and your sleeping backWe're born-again losersIt's funnyHoney, you
Amazing GraceHow sweet the soundThat saved a wretch like meI
Lovely empty baseball fieldJust one of the places to sunLike
This war's OkIn a sweet old fashioned wayLike a game
You can't make itYou can't cryYou can't make it home
That filthy stareHe's on a tearCold water coming for the
That sky is a-shine with sheenThose eyes are a green
That fine fever brought us hereLambasted eyeballsWhen we kiss the
In the race but out of stepYou struggle to hold
Rocking on the oceanSucking up the seaEvery bird flies over
I know I don't want you, I know I don't
Oh no, don't you put me in that boxYou know
Excuse me, a doormat is good honest workOnly the bored
Before I go to you I never wash my neck'Cause
Must've been on mushrooms when you wrote that pile of
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