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Our trip had ended
I didn't know what I had to do
Who really cares at all?
We gotta get away somehow
We settled on a place where the open road had closed
And we tried too many times before

And I spent the night alone
With three things on my mind
Money, Pills and Girls
Money, Thrills and Girls
Been looking through the pages of some magazine
that I've read a thousand times
And the food all starts to taste the same
and it's 6:09am and there's nothing on TV
and I'm fucked just look at me

Watching Simpsons
Afraid to call you
I know i fucked up
I know i owe you
Seven hundred
Please don't hate me
I'll get a job
And I'll pay you back
Somehow

One more night alone
and you can take it
There'll be more tomorrow
Same magazine and tasteless food
Same TV screen
Same shitty mood

and I feel like it can't get worse
and I feel like it can't get worse
and I feel like it can't get worse

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