I saw it in the eyes of the checkout girl
That sad and holy glow, every blue-collar knows
Like the lit windows on my childhood street
Where the deep, dark secrets of the family are kept
Beneath the mire and stench of growing debt
The deep, dark secrets of the family are kept
Credit is a whore who won't wake up and leave
But believe me I'm not sleeping with her anymore
I don't want to be a slave, I just want to be free
And honestly I'm sick and tired of people chasing me

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