I built forty million miles of strip-malls

And I painted the sky with aerosol

Plugged the hole in your pockets with credit cards

And clouded your eyes with sitcoms



I put the "con" in "convenience," and I string you along

Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong

Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong



Owwwww



I make tiny, starving fingers sew your comfy running shoes

And I make more money than any man could ever use

Been called a cool mother fucker, but I'm not that mean

You see I'd gladly leave the dregs of the earth to the meek



Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong

Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong

Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong

Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong



Owwwwww

Whoo



This is the life

This is the life

This is the life

This is the life



This is the life

This is the life

This is the life

For me

For me

For me