Liz hates her body, her baby body
She thinks that everybody's looking at
The way her figure's changed
But she hates that public transport 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's on this bus
It always 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 their mind
But this bus wastes roughly on-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 were never close
These fuckers never close

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