so tired you could sleep with the light on

with the stereo blasting in you ear

you know you're tired when your senses fail



i'm a coin-laundry loser with a degree

i'm the car alarm in an '83 pontiac, painted black



keep the loved ones posted,

someday they will have to come and bail you out

hold your breath, count to ten,

save your cursing for the navy wingnut



so caught up in being noteworthy,

the average ghost is haunting someone else

you know you're wired when your senses fail



i'm a coin-laundry loser with a degree

i'm the car alarm in an '83 pontiac, painted black



keep the loved ones posted,

someday they will have to come and bail you out

hold your breath, count to ten,

save your cursing for the navy wingnut