Coin-Laundry Loser

So tired, you could sleep with the light on

With the stereo blasting in you ear

You know you're tired when your senses fail

I'm a coin-laundry, loser with a degree

I'm the car alarm in an '83 Pontiac, painted black

Keep the loved, ones posted

Someday they will have to come and bail you out

Hold your breath, count to ten

Save your cursing for the navy wing nut

So caught up in being noteworthy

The average ghost is haunting someone else

You know you're wired when your senses fail

I'm a coin-laundry, loser with a degree

I'm the car alarm in an '83 Pontiac, painted black

Keep the loved, ones posted

Someday they will have to come and bail you out

Hold your breath, count to ten

Save your cursing for the navy wing nut