Your loser friend thinks it’s a good idea to hang around
Outside the Wendy’s that’s open ‘til 2 AM
With the vanity plates so we all know it’s him
Then it’s off to the 7−11
Where he’ll wait for Mrs. Brown
He earns dollars a day at the grocery
He’s spent a year of tuition on the lottery
Save me from suburbia
I fear I’m becoming white trash
I’m living on credit
A television dream is what I’m fed
Makes me a dumb motherfucker
I picked up a book
But I couldn’t even tell you what I’d read
And I’m resigned to know I’ll never make it far
Talking shit and drinking in this killing jar
My lazy neighbor is asking for a favor
Won’t I watch her kid?
She’ll be back from the store in just a little bit
Of course she’s high on something and she’s full of shit
But the worst thinks he’s come in first
God help us he’s a suburban cop
He kicked my ass real bad in the 7th grade
Well, he’s still just a thug but now he’s getting paid
Save me from suburbia
And I don’t know why I want to stay
I hate it here in every way
It’s a corporate, vegged-out, Philistine Hell
Where my scumbag neighbor’s yelling at his mother
«Where's my allowance, bitch?»
And I’m resigned to know we’ll never make it far
Watching life and waiting for a shooting star