I definitely wouldn't win a Grammy... but maybe a CMA?
Here's evidence for why this is not a viable career option for me in these disembodied lyrics that pop into my head while on the tredmill:
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that guy at the gym, in the Yankee shirt, looked just like you/ he reminded me how long it took to get over all we'd been through/ damn those biceps because they just won't let me forget the way I loved you
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Maybe we could leave tonight, my bags are already packed. It's a round trip ticket with a return date in the corner. But I know I wouldn't mind if we decided to stay a lifetime.
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I said I wanted fame and red hot corvette/ some Gucci sandals and a house on the beach/ I said I wanted Oprah eating out the palm of my hand and Letterman lined up for a one night stand/ but I forgot how I said I'd get there/ the doors are closed and I just don't have the key/ just an old guitar and some broken down dreams
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he wears his polo shirt second hand and a size too big/ but can you blame him when his favorite designer is the Good Will?/ he ain't got game or a swagger to kill/ but behind those spectacles he's got the kind of hazel eyes that just won't let me say good-bye
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I need a Whole Foods Bag full of money aight?
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