Witty Tarbox - Group Therapy Lyrics

Well I hate the signs
I hate the people
They got me all dressed up for my wedding
Bucket of eyes
Scoff at the clerk
Stuck at the gas pump with nothing but change
So I fork out a dime
Cough up a smirk
To the man in the green tie on pump number five

Carry me over to the empty skies
To the end of the green grass
With one foot behind
Carry me over away from the kids
Wrecking the playground
Cause it's all just the same

I saw a woman to my left head in her hands
Up against the car door
'Cause she can't afford to feed the kids
She cries her eyes out to the thought-stricken skies
There was a woman with dreams that never last
Scratching the lotto over the garbage can
At the end of it all, at the end, there's no relief on pump number five

I hate the signs
I hate the people
They got me all dressed up for nothing
Bucket of eyes
Scoff at the clerk
Stuck at the gas pump again with no change
So carry me over
To the empty skies
To the end of the green grass
With one foot behind
Carry me over
Away from the kids
Wrecking the playground
Cause you're all just the same

Oh F*ck