Fire up the Batmobile
'Cause I gotta get out of here
I don't speak the language
And you gave me no real choice,
You gave me no real choice
You made me see that my behavior
Was an opinion
So fire up the Batmobile
'Cause I gotta get out of here
It's the mouth of the gift horse, I know
But I gave it my best shot,
I gave it my best shot
I gave you the performance
Of a lifetime
So I hope you all will see
There just isn't a place here for me
I look around and feel
Like somebody must be fucking with me
I just can't take any of you seriously
And I can't keep keeping myself company
Fire up the Batmobile
'Cause I gotta get out of here
Big shoulders block the view
You can't get your money back,
You can't get your money back
You can't pretend that isolation
Is the same as privilege
So I hope you all will see
There just isn't a place here for me
I look around and feel
Like somebody must be fucking with me
I just can't take any of you seriously
And I can't keep keeping myself company.
--
A beautiful and deeply cynical song by Liz Phair, from the Girly Sound tapes made in late 1992. After moving back to Chicago, Phair began writing songs and recording homemade tapes under the name Girly Sound and supported herself by selling her charcoal drawings on the streets of Wicker Park.
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