Stacks of things I've begunnSummer indoors, nothing gets donenCan't pick out things to wearnReasons I had no longer therenWide-eyed West CoastnMagic on her sidenShe cleaned my house and said I'd never dienn(Don't believe)nShe thought I'd let her stayn(Don't believe)nShe thought I'd let her staynBut I turned her awaynAnd something I don't like is closer every daynnSharp wit party nOh don't make me gonThey'll be making good points and I don't want to knownSend me home counting the chances I've hadnI could fill up three digitsnThat's not what it means to be sadnnMagazines by my sidenTaking to task, hurting my pridenDrive the freeway too fastnWorld without cops, critical massnRestless from L.A. to AmsterdamnSomewhere she's forgetting who I amnn(Don't believe)nShe just wanted to stayn(Don't believe)nShe just wanted to staynBut I turned her awaynAnd something I don't like is closer every day