| More Than This |
| What a spoiled boy I've been My mouth full, mess, my arms outstreched I've got palm sweat, I'm smiling like I'm competition Well, maybe I'm yours She said, "I know you, you're a salesman's son And you're pimping pretty junk" And I said, "What am I supposed to do They've built the scenes around you And I need more than this" And she said, "what am I supposed to do Look at what's become of you And I need more than this" "Go on then, hitch me up, baby, If what I am is not enough Because I do love the glow you get When you're told word for word How to think for yourself" I'm tired Of baring my teeth when I smile |