you ride with the top down
and all the boys stare
with the scent of a magazine
and your wind-blown hair
and i coulda tried to get deeper inside
but i sat there alone
and i slowly got fried

hope it's only pretend
that is only the end
i've got piles of old pictures
got your clothes on my racks
you can keep most of the records
leave me the Mowtown and the Stax
leave me the Mowtown and the Stax

i broke down in Grimsby
and i missed you so bad
i felt like a fifth wheel
i smile when i'm sad
and all of the whiskey in the world couldn't stop
my heart from beating
i was spun like a top

hope it's only pretend
that is only the end
i've got piles of old pictures
got your clothes on my racks
you can keep most of the records
leave me the Mowtown and the Stax
leave me the Mowtown and the Stax

screw these damn cell phones
give me cancer in my head
and this genetic chicken
makes me feel like i'm dead
we could argue for hours
and miles in the night
until i just pass out
in the flourescent light

hope it's only pretend
that is only the end
i've got piles of old pictures
got your clothes on my racks
you can keep most of the records
leave me the Mowtown and the Stax
leave me the Mowtown and the Stax

i've got piles of old memories
of you and me down by the tracks
you can keep most of the records
leave me the Motown and the Stax
leave me the Motown and the Stax