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I built forty million miles of strip malls And I painted the sky with aerosol Plugged the hole in your pockets with credit cards And clouded your eyes with sitcoms I put the "con" in "convenience" and I string you along Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong I make tiny starving fingers sew your comfy running shoes And I make more money than any man could ever use Been called a cool mother fucker, but I'm not that mean You see I'd gladly leave the dregs of the earth to the meek Don't worry your head 'cause there ain't nothing wrong This is the life This is the life For me From Letras Mania