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