I don't claim to ride a bike With long black hair to show my might I don't follow the latest styles They make me throw up bright green bile I don't have to shave my head Or walk around and beg for bread I don't have big ears that stick out Or act like my parents threw me out! Don't parade around town Or shoot up gloo that gets me down I don't have lots of holes in my arm And have'nt used up all my charms, Don't go to clubs 'cause I think it's cool, And hang out with all the fools So glad. oh so glad I'm not you I don't sit in a highrise office And think about how much money I make I don't have a greasy toupe or walk around with hair that's fake Don't have pearls, or cars or furs Only cowboy boots, no spurs No silk sheets apon my bed Glad I'm not you, I'd rather be dead! I have acid wash, but no poodle hair That's why I shot you that ugly stare No high heels with jeans and socks I rather have a bagel, hold the lox No tan in the middle of winter I'd rather have a ten foot splinter *Chorus*