Lyrics
Hands in the pocket type of guy
Phone booths without the doors
Hold paper cups for paper whores
I've got some money in a jar
I saved up change since yesterday
It's not enough to throw away
You used to care
I'm losing weight
You're a work of art
And I don't need this anymore
I can't believe you're clean
Parking lots are sacred ground
I'm busy putting myself down
Gas tanks full of Nutrasweet
A paper bag can't hide your face
In this or any other place
You used to care
I'm losing, wait
You're a work of art
And I don't need this anymore