SOLD OFFSITE (Old Art [DNR])

I wake up every evenin'
With a big smile on my face
And it never feels out of place
And you're still probably workin'
At a nine to five pace
I wonder how bad that tastes

When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell
When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell

Now, where's your picket fence, love?
And where's that shiny car?
And did it ever get you far?
You never seemed so tense, love
I've never seen you fall so hard
Do you know where you are?