| It’s lonely in the Garden State, the place of no left turns
|
| In a motel 6 in East Brunswick smoking till my lungs burn
|
| I put ice in the trash can to cool down my beer
|
| Breathe in the perfume in the room of the person last here
|
| I can’t stand this singing
|
| I can’t stand this song
|
| I can’t stand being home, but I can’t stand being gone
|
| My ears ring when it’s quiet and I ain’t heard a thing all day
|
| And I’d call if I could but right now I ain’t got nothing to say
|
| And so on
|
| And so long
|
| Can’t keep singing these songs
|
| Too long
|
| So on
|
| First night we met we fucked on the couch in my living room
|
| And spent the morning pretending it didn’t happen, searching for your lost phone
|
| Which I found between the cushions below a pile of our clothes
|
| You said you couldn’t leave without it, Lord, I should have kept my eyes closed
|
| I left for work directly then for a fifteen hour day
|
| Made just over a hundred bucks, none of which I ever saved
|
| Didn’t hear too much from you before, never heard from you again
|
| Cause as soon as this shit starts, boy it’s, it’s bound to end
|
| And so on
|
| And so long
|
| Can’t keep singing these songs
|
| For too long
|
| And so on
|
| I throw empty beer cans at the TV when I’m watching the news
|
| I hate republicans, I hate democrats, I hate liberals too
|
| I think pacifists are weak, and violence is wrong
|
| But I go limp for police and I fight when it’s called for
|
| The truth is I don’t know or care with who or where I fit in at all
|
| But I keep on living simple, riding fast and living slow
|
| I write standard boring songs with boring standard chords
|
| Just like the best and the worst, verse chorus, verse chorus, bridge, repeat
|
| And so on
|
| So long
|
| Can’t keep singing these songs
|
| Too long
|
| And so on
|
| And so on
|
| And so long
|
| I can’t keep singing these songs
|
| And so on
|
| And so on |