To be part of my tribe
I bought all the hype
And social mystique
Of clean white jeans,
How they set a guy apart
In matters of the heart
In the highly fickle world  
Of the dating scene.

Practicing my walk
Still not prepared to talk
Trying to look like
The cover of a magazine
Standing just so,
Hoping nobody knows
I feel like a fraud
In my clean white jeans

No one here to meet me
Nobody greets me
Suddenly invisible
I’m sure anyone has seen
How **** I look
Or the trouble I took
To come here this evening
In my clean white jeans.

Watching everyone dance
Not sure this is romance
It is obviously a way  
To see and be seen
Enjoying a hit song
I sort of dance right along
On the sidelines
In my clean white jeans

Now it’s two a.m.
I’m home alone again
Still not sure  
What popularity means
I still don’t know the score
I guess I expected more
Of my investment  
In my clean white jeans.