I'd be selling turntables at the Y
Goin' backwards and up on a slide
Losin' track of my money and time
If I was a junkie
If I was a crime
I'd be sweatin' through my purple tank top
Wonderin' what it is I did with my socks
Puttin' on a puppet show that puts people off
Missin' my son, or twistin' my jaw
And I imagine there'd be no one left
To tell me what to do
And I imagine I'd come close to god
But I never would get through
And I imagine
I'd imagine you
I'd be trippin' all over myself
Feeling amazing but lookin' like hell
Getting back up from a potion's spell
Or shoutin' at Amy
Who moved to the south
I'd be pickin' metal blades of grass
Out of my makeshift burlap cast
The one that I stole from the CVS
Afraid of the faces
That talk on the cash
And I imagine there'd be no one left
To tell me what to do
And I imagine I'd come close to god
But I never would get through
And I imagine
I'd imagine you
Somewhere out there I lost myself
In all of the lies and the stories I sell
I bet the phonies all go to hell
But I just imagine
No one can tell
