(Kick me out, kick me out) I don't want to hear you Get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook Fake Tales of San Francisco I don't want to hear, you know Echo through the room More point to a wedding disco Without a bride or groom There's a super

You ain't gotta leave Put you in a room But you can't sleep with me Every time I come and fuck with you You make up all the rules You ought to do it Just because our car's moving Are you in my fucking corner for real? Or, are you plotting to kill?

She's a poor girl This is a story 'bout a poor girl, a story that you ought to know She lived all alone in a one room flat on a street where the lights are low Every night about the same time she'd go and put her glad rags on Go to the place where

I'm singing you this lullaby, lullaby, lullaby, lullaby Singing you this lullaby, lullaby, lullaby, lullaby 'Cause baby when the lights go out in the room I'ma put it down on you I'll show you the time of your life Baby right before I say goodnight

And I know what's on your mind God knows I put it there But if I took it back Well you'd be nowhere You'd be nowhere again In my cold arms Weekend wreckers take the streets With abandon in their eyes But in our bedroom we're bloodshot and beat

You can get it, you can get it And I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want Poetic justice, put it in a song If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it? I mean you need to hear this Every second,

You best be ready for anything They'll bury me alone Bust through like a battering ram Flashbang first gives us the upper hand Room by room we're tempting karma tonight Take 'em while they're sleeping They won't put up a fight Are we the motorcade? I'll

You're killing me, you're killing me Doctor, please, give me a dose of the American Dream Put down the pen and look in my eyes We're in the waiting room and something ain't right All this is on you, we're over prescribed Doctor, your medicine, and your

I miss my baby Messin' with these LA girls I'm missin' my baby (LA girls) There was Nikki, Nicole, Tiffany, and Heather But there's only room for you in my world But you say that I changed like the east coast weather How the hell did I get caught up?

The tactful cactus by your window Surveys the prairie of your room The mobile spins to its collision Clara puts her head between her paws They've opened shops down the West side Will all the cacti find a home But the key to the city Is in the sun that