Tried to say hell to the rat race
Tried to make my escape
Pictures of parties and their faces under blue light
And their voices all on tape

Can I become what I think I am
Try to find my weekend man
Or will I become what I most fear
I bloomed too late now winter’s near

All of the guys think that it’s bullshit
I have better things to write about
But can you tell me that it’s better this way
Someone called while you were out

Can I become what I think I am
Try to find my weekend man
And in its place a smoking gun
Right before the weekend’s done

Can I become what I think I am
Try to find my weekend man
And in its place a smoking gun
Right before the weekend’s done
Can I become what I think I am
What I think I am