9.4 58 Am (Dunroamin, Duncarin, Dunlivin)
[Trucker：} 'Hey kid, you looking for a lift？
Get on up here
How's it going good buddy？'
I nailed ducks to the wall
Kept my heart in dark ruins
I built bungalows over the hills
Dunroamin, duncarin, dunlivin
Took my girl to the country
To sleep out under the moon
Next thing she's going crazy
What the hell can you do？'
She waits for the real Mr. Right to come
Gently removing her heart
With his promises of real communication
Who's always picking up the tab
Who built a bungalow for his momma and dad
Me.....
Who took you out to all the shows
Who worked his fingers to the bone
Me....
While you were asleep
I kept you in buttons and bows
So you could encourage this creep
I bet some son of a bitch made a million dollars.'
With his neat feet
And his clean fingernails
With his wise but twinkling eyes
He's a rock standing out in an ocean of doubt
faggot.'
And compromise
I'd like to go on with this bit of a song
Describing this schmuck
I'd like to go on, but I'm going to throw up
Get the hell out of here.
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