spinning on the turntable, spinning in the microwave
A hundred and seventy six degrees, a one eighty
and i flip back to look at the man who recognizes me
and wants to give me a hug
he gives me the keys to his flat in green point
if i needed a place to crash
i could sleep on the futon by his bed
but i'm not sure he knows who i am
and i don't even know his name
i shredded on the ukulele at the turner cody show
i got loaded with weed from northern oregon
at the end of the night i got well rewarded
with a ticket for a free drink
the choice is red stripe or pabst
it was my time of glory/ new york city
i wrote a letter to my friend in paris
i played it cool and said i took it easy
i told him how i slept with you
and how it didn't matter to me
and how you couldn't hurt me now
well it was kind of true
i almost lied when my mother asked me
if i was making any money
i almost lied but i knew i sucked at it
and confessed that i was broke
and couldn't afford her coffee and was getting skinny
holes in my 3 days shirt well i guess i smell now
i haven't slept in my bed for 12 weeks
i haven't walked my dog in 12 weeks
i've written songs that make me sound woohoo so angry
i'll burn a CD and i'll send you a copy