Liz hates her body, her baby body
She thinks that everybody's looking at the
way her figure's changed
But she's on this bus, it always moves so slow
Regrets her haircut, a career-ruining haircut
She should have got it cut by her student
friend, he's asked her to for weeks
But she hates that public transport moves so slow

You wanted everything to change but you
could only change your name
You've got to rise above it now, you're
more important than the game
Than the game, more important than the game

Gazes in awe on those stupid morons
Who buy those magazines to paper tudor mirrors of their homes
But she wonders how many people buy them for the summer factor
She's making pictures, collaging pictures
A microscopic version of the way they're crowding in her mind
But this bus wastes roughly one-twelfth of her day

You wanted everything to change
but you could only change your clothes
Standing in the supermarket aisle
you know these fuckers never close
They never close, these fuckers never close

You wanted everything to change
but you could only change your name