Fruitmarket Fantasy
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Lyrics
I'm getting nowhere
Sitting in my room alone
Drinking pink lemonade
And I'm staring at the telephone
She's getting nowhere
Standing at the counter all day
Selling heads of lettuce
And bottles of pink lemonade
These days, all it takes to move me
Is a Tropicana smoothie and her smile
But I haven't shaved in some time
And two bucks are hard to come by
So I think I'm gonna be here for a while
No clocks to punch
So we're sitting at lunch
And I'm glancing at her a lot
And you're getting kinda angry
Eating pickles and fries
You don't think that she's that hot
Well she's not that hot
She's just like me
Overcrowded and all alone
We wake up and we break up
And then we head back home
Only home doesn't feel much like home
Anymore