"confessional by the dashboard light"
Sweet dreams, young lover
I want to hear the B-sides
Sweet taste, feels sour
Up on the tip of your tongue
I just want to understand
Yeah, I just wanna understand
I want to hear your vision through your eyes
And pour them right on into mine
I wanna hear the B-sides
I want long hair without having to keep it
And the freedom to chase my dreams
They’re selling all the counter culture
It’s all the way in Times Square
They light it up for the New Year
And they don’t care if it’s fair
They just care that it’s there
I don’t want to buy anything
I just want to be happy
I don’t want to love anything
If I’ll be loved in return
And I made it, I’m famous, my name is baked into the cathode-ray screen
It’s why I’m famous
I grew out my hair ‘til it covered my eyes
And wrote my number one
With the catchy high-pitched chorus about how I want to tear myself right out of my skin
And now I’m famous
Driving home in my celebrity car
My belt buckle weighs a third off of my hollow bones
‘Cause now I’m famous
I’m like a bird
With a gut full of buckshot
I’ve got lead in my intestines
And it’s poisoning my mind
Did you know the American Dream
Is still alive?
Yeah, the American Dream
It’s still kicking
‘Cause we dug up the grave to loot the bones
But we couldn’t find them
So maybe it’s still out there, shambling
Or maybe someone else just got there first