What a spoiled boy 
I've beenMy mouth full, mess, my arms outstretched
I've got palm sweat, 
I'm smiling like 
I'm competition
Well, maybe 
I'm yoursShe said, "I know you, you're a salesman's sonAnd you're pimping pretty junk"
And I said, "What am I supposed to doThey've built the scenes around you and I need more than this"
And she said, "What am I supposed to doLook at what's been come 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 tiredOf baring my teeth when 
I smile