I’m gonna to quit my job to travel
I’m gonna to quit my job to travel
I’m gonna to quit my job to travel
You made me quit my job to travel
I’m going to sail around the world in 80 days
I might stay longer than 80 days
Because my boss doesn’t understand me
In this world of cosign pacifiers
He sniffs the waiters at the Firkin Flyer
While stepping on the backs of black cricket spiders
Hey, I’m not a liar; why would I lie?
From this last row, middle seat, on the red eye
I just wanted a little more praise
And a better than a COLA raise
She’s a beehive pretender
And a ten time first offender
So I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures
To celebrate the splendor of her gender
On the beaches of St. Tropez
The beaches of St. Tropez
And the color of the sand of St. Tropez
The color of the sand in St. Tropez
So when I’m old and gray and a Hair Club Member
These pictures will help me remember
What was so damn important to do that day
I can’t believe the cash I burned through today
Maybe I’ll tap Sam Bankman-Fried
Crypto is income guaranteed
Or maybe I’ll just suck blood from my parents
They never did too much for me
I’m gonna quit my job to travel
I’m gotta quit this job to travel
I’m tired of working for dicksWho wants to work for a dick?
I’m just gonna lay by the pool and eat meat on a stick
Yea I’m gonna to lay by the pool
And think about practicing my scissor kicks
And plan to build myself a temple, brick by brick
With a fountain of youth and a Batphone
And when I get back home
I’m gonna raise that dog myself
Yea I’m gonna raise my dog myself
Hippo skin around my knees
In a Home Depot she-shed full of ball peens
And maybe buy myself a new belt
I’m gonna live on X and show the world
How enlightened and smart I am
And even in the absence of godly wisdom
Or logical defense of any schism
With no self awareness and lost in my own smug trance
I’m going to blow off best friend’s wedding
Because I don’t dance
Yea I don’t like to dance, so I don’t do weddings
When I don’t like to dance
I quit my sex
I quit my skin
I quit the common lessons
From original sin
I quit my parent’s Jesus
And my grandparent’s Moses
I quit Mel Gibson
And I quit The Pink Roses
Now in my house of mirrors, acquaintances are framed to see
Some are unrequited, others unindicted, but I never quit on me
And in all those important travel pictures sitting on my shelf
Some were happy places, other hopeful phases
But they never helped me find myself
No, they didn’t help me find myself
None of them helped me find myselfWhere do I go to find myself?
Who can help me find myself?
I’m going to quit my job to travel
I’m going to quit my job to travel