Lyrics July 4 - Modern Diet

In the backroom
With a house key
Call it romance
Call it routine
Mind your business
Mind your manners
Man I'm tired
And I want her
Her to want me
It's a problem
It's a mystery
Now it's history
Her apartment is an ice cube
And her body is a world view
Call it shallow
Call it corny

Told you so is ringing like a dial tone
And Uncle Sam is getting old
Getting ready to explode
I feel it in my bones

On the way home
Conversations
Stimulated
Concentration
It's a long walk
But it feels good
To be moving at my own pace
To be talking in my own space
I'm not crazy
I'm just like this

Told you so is ringing like a dial tone
And Uncle Sam is getting old
Getting ready to explode
I feel it in my bones

Uncle Sam didn't wanna come clean
Now he's making a scene alright
Lost his head and a couple of friends
Guess it's one of those kinds of nights

I feel it in my
I feel it in my
Told you so
Oh
Is getting old
Told you so is ringing like a dial tone
And Uncle Sam is getting old
Getting ready to explode
I feel it in my
I feel it in my
I feel it in my
I feel it in my bones