Pulling on the apron strings looking up Standing on the chair to be grown up I feel so little, I need my pillow I hate time, I hate the clock I want to be a dog, or I want to be a rock
Sunday's pancakes Miss Mary Mack Color Polaroid's show my heart attack In my second hand pants and dusty shoes The day that the playground laughed at my shoes
It's my birthday next week and what I want please Is to turn on the heat so the fish won't freeze The fish in the tank froze and died last week Oh I want to be a dog or I want to be a leaf
Quarry miners, fishermen In my town of Bethlehem Picket fences, church at ten No star above my Bethlehem
Now I'm only 16 and I think I have an ulcer I'm hiding my sex behind a dirty sweatshirt I've lost five pounds these last few days Trying to be class president and get straight A's, well, Who gives a shit about that anyway? I just want to be a dog or a lump of clay
Still I'm tired of standing still Tired of living -- still Everyday I dream of leaving
Everybody's talking about Becky's bust The boys on the basketball team just fuck The same ten girls, who don't know who they are They're looking for some comfort in the back of a car The six-packs of beer, the locker room jeers I don't want to be me, I don't want to be here
Red brick school house, dead end dirtroads, daffodils No star above my Bethlehem
I want to be a dog or I want to be a rock I don't want to be me, I don't want to be here in BethlehemTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
