I'd Rather Be Working For A Paycheck,

A Boycott Is, Inherently, A Blunt Instrument. It Is An Imperfect Weapon, A Carpet Bomb, When All Involved Would Prefer A Surgical Strike.

Because The Truth Is That Gossip Is As Good As Gospel In This Town. You Can Save Face But You Won't Ever Save Your Soul. And That's A Fact.

I Drug Your Ghost Across The Country, And We Plotted Out My Death. Every City And Memory We Whispered "here Is Where You Rest." Well I Was Determined In Chicago But I Dug My Teeth Into My Knees And I Settled For A Telephone, Sang Into Your Machine: "you Are My Sunshine, My Only Sunshine.

Every Time I Finish A Song... Most Of The Time It's In My Own Head, Like This Sounds Too Much Like A Townes Van Zandt Song, Or Whoever. I Realize There Are So Many Melodies And Chord Progressions In Pop And Rock Music That Are So Similar That You Can Kind Of Trace It Back To Other Things. Most Of The Time It's Just In Your Head.

I'd Rather Be Working For A Paycheck, Than Waiting To Win The Lottery. Besides, Maybe This Time It's Different, I Mean, I Really Think You Like Me.