Time of Glory

Lyrics
Spinning on the turntable, spinning in the microwave A hundred and seventy six degrees, a one-eighty And I flip back to look at the man who recognizes me And wants to give me a hug He gives me the keys to his flat in green point If I needed a place to crash I could sleep on the futon by his bed But I'm not sure he knows who I am And I don't even know his name I shredded on the ukulele at the Turner Cody show I got loaded with weed from northern Oregon And at the end of thе night I got well rewarded With a tickеt for a free drink The choice is Red Stripe or Pabst It was my time of glory in New York City I wrote a letter to my friend in Paris I played it cool and said I took it easy I told him how I slept with you And how it didn't matter to me And how you couldn't hurt me now Well, it was kind of true I almost lied when my mother asked me If I was making any money I almost lied but I knew I sucked at it And confessed that I was broke and couldn't afford a coffee And was getting skinny Holes in my three-day shirt Well, I guess I smell now I haven't slept in a bed for 12 weeks I haven't walked my dog in 12 weeks I've written songs that make me sound so angry I'll burn a CD and I'll send you a copy
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