Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
You say you like New York better than L.A. and I just sit there I believe you like looking like a Ramone When I would rather kiss a Beach Boy I want to feel the sand beneath my toes and feel the sun burn up my nose I'll give you all of my black clothes Just light your smoke and watch me go… Come come come again? What was that you said? Listen carefully and Maybe then you'll see: This time, this time, next year, next year I won't be here I'm so sick of dreary winters And mornings spent in subway stations Going to a job I hate More and more with everyday I want the lifestyle of the rich and famous But you'd prefer to remain nameless That's you and this is me, I'm gonna live the fantasy Come come come again? What was that you said? Listen carefully and Maybe then you'll see: That this time, this time, next year, next year I won't be here. You say you like New York better than L.A. and I just sit there I believe you like looking like a Ramone When I would rather kiss a Beach Boy Come come come again? What was that you said? Listen carefully and Maybe then you'll see: That this time, this time, next year, next year I won't be here. |