i know i'm a rich girl
when i stare into your eyes
i see dollars everywhere,
                   and they don't match
                   the glimmer in them

you dig the materialistic, sentimental, american traditions
i dig you more than any of that crap
and you ask me how i view this country
and i want out,
                            out,
                                        out

there's got to be profit in having none of it at all
there's profit in getting yours and my own bodies
together,                      because you're not
                      into running away, but i want you to

                     we go on road trips, we go sailing
                     and i want to bring the heat out of this
                     hype before it bites us both