Fruitmarket Fantasy Lyrics

I'm getting nowhere

Sitting in my room alone.

Drinkin' pink lemonade

And I'm starin' at the telephone.

She's getting nowhere

Staring at the counter all day.

Selling heads of lettuce

And bottles of pink lemonade.

These days

All it takes to move me is

A Tropicana smoothie

And a smile.

But I haven't shaved in sometime,

And two bucks are hard to come by,

So I think I'm gonna be here for a while.

(Oh No)

No clocks to punch,

Oh we're sittin' at lunch,

And I'm glancin' at her a lot.

And you're getting kinda angry,

Eatin' pickles and fries,

You don't think that she's that hot.

Well she's not that hot

She's just like me,

Overcrowded and all alone.

We wake up and we break up

And then we head back home

Only home doesn't feel much like home,

Anymore.