Big Old Dark Green Car
There's a big old dark green car
and there's a big old man inside
and he's pounding on the horn with the flat of his hand
and there's a baby in the back seat crying
and there's a woman leaning out the front window
and she's smoking a long cigarette
and she's trying to find the end of the traffic jam
and doing a reality check
Is this me? is this my life?
is that my man? am I his wife?
is this real? it all looks fake
somebody better come and get me out of this place
I think I'm making some kind of mistake
Now when some of us hit this world
we hit it with our face
open up our mouths like a bulldoser
and start ripping up the place
but then others of us sneak in sideways
keeping one foot on the floor
bouncing in and out of life like a long bad dream
till we're never really sure
Is this me? is this my life?
I don't remember anything, is that my knife?
is that blood? are these my hands?
nothing's happening here like I wanted it to
this isn't what I had planned
There's a little guy put up on a platform
with a head full of little ideas
and he's yelling to some people sitting awfully still
in rows and rows and rows of chairs
and he's a strum-a-ling-a-lum-a-lam-zim-dad
and they're looking at the little guy go
and he's doing his best to make it sound real deep
when he doesn't really know
Is this me? is this my life?
hey, what do you think you're looking at?
a big shot? a big fake.
somebody better come and get me out of this place
I think I'm making some kind of mistake