Tumbling out of bed after a long night out
(my head hurts)
after hanging out with friends at Beach *** Burts...
I put on my office face that morning like a pair of worn out shoes
I'm sad that day/I've got the blues
I let out a sigh
somehow managing to survive the 405
In my car I down my Starbucks
spilling it down my dress shirt
I'm mumbling to myself "***"...
I put a blazer on to cover it up
My boss cheerfully says "Good Morning"
inside my head all I hear is...
(Oh, please ...Shut the f-up!)
Wandering to my cubby I find my spot
pushing papers around all day
it's 5 o'clock n' my brain is shot...
(I should work out tonight)
Instead I find myself numbing up again
because the rat race seems like it will never end
(I need to write that book - I need to write that script)
I need a vacation...
I wanna check out - I wanna get ripped
All of this responsibility feels like such a burden
(I feel like Tyler Durden)
I've got car payments now/and rent to pay
(Do I have a choice...
Do I have a say?)
~Paradise has a price~
to live in the Golden State...
(I'm surviving)
I have to put food on my plate.