spinning on the turntable, spinning in the microwave   A hundred and seventy six degrees, a one eighty   and i flip back to look at the man who recognizes me   and wants to give me a hug   he gives me the keys to his flat in green point   if i needed a place to crash   i could sleep on the futon by his bed   but i'm not sure he knows who i am   and i don't even know his name   i shredded on the ukulele at the turner cody show   i got loaded with weed from northern oregon   at the end of the night i got well rewarded   with a ticket for a free drink   the choice is red stripe or pabst   it was my time of glory/ new york city   i wrote a letter to my friend in paris   i played it cool and said i took it easy   i told him how i slept with you   and how it didn't matter to me   and how you couldn't hurt me now   well it was kind of true   i almost lied when my mother asked me   if i was making any money   i almost lied but i knew i sucked at it   and confessed that i was broke    and couldn't afford her coffee and was getting skinny   holes in my 3 days shirt well i guess i smell now   i haven't slept in my bed for 12 weeks   i haven't walked my dog in 12 weeks   i've written songs that make me sound woohoo so angry   i'll burn a CD and i'll send you a copy