Roger Powell Follow

Climbed into a dumpster
She grabbed an index card
And she taped it to her forehead
And it read, poor white trash

She grabbed a gun
Put it to her heart and pulled the trigger
Now she's dead, it's just a thought
Don't you look at me that way

Now, they're talkin' to me
And I'm talkin' back again
Now, they're talkin' to me
And I'm talkin' back again

Sorry, sorry, baby
I'm so sorry
Sorry, baby, I'm so

I'm looking through a plastic bag
It's on my face, it squares my head
A little moist hot head sweat
Some little beads of brain, a little mind rain

It's just a thought inside my head
Those little voices, they're talkin' to me
Don't you look at me that way that way

Now, they're talkin' to me
And I'm talkin' back again
Now, they're talkin' to me
And I'm talkin' back again

24,900 miles an hour
To break away from this Earth spin
So want me to start running right now
Right now, 24,900 miles an hour

I need a baseball bat, I'm gonna trash this office
These people, they're fuckin' with my head
I can't move and they left me here strapped to this bed
It's another thought inside my head

Those little voices, they're talkin' to me
Don't you leave me here this way?

Now, they're talkin' to me
And I'm talkin' back again
Now, they're talkin' to me
And I'm talkin' back again

Sorry, sorry, baby
I'm so sorry
Sorry, baby, I'm so

Oh, how do I hear
In this little afterthought
And my little aftershock?

Behind the cheerful stare
I wake up from the nightmare
And I just grew aware a little too late