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
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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
Photos
Artist: Rufus Wainwright
Artist: Amel Larrieux
Artist: Dee Clark