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• Artiste: Steinways (The)
• Titre: Fruitmarket Fantasy
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I'm getting nowhere Sitting in my room alone. Drinkin' pink lemonade And I'm starin' at the telephone. She's getting nowhere Staring 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 a smile. But i haven't shaved in sometime, And two bucks are hard to come by, So i think I'm gonna be here for a while. (Oh No) No clocks to punch, Oh we're sittin' at lunch, And I'm glancin' at her a lot. And you're getting kinda angry, Eatin' 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.