Out Of The Red

I ain't got no outfits to pick and choose

So, I really ain't got that much to lose

Picture's getting fuzzy and it's stuck on channel 3

And the whole thing's lookin' pretty silly to me

50,000 more and I'm out of the red

Heavy Metal, thrash band, it's all a bunch of shit

People trying to name me while I'm trying to do my bit

I ain't got the patience or the time to waste

Call me a rock star, you can spit in my face

Gonna take a horse to drag me outta my bed

I'd rather hang with drunks than hang out with myself

Well, the booze is over there, take a glass off the shelf

If you ain't had enough by tomorrow at noon

We're gonna place a call to the Boneyard Crew

Went to sleep at home and woke up in a shed

Oh, son of a bitch