Title: Rock Bottom
Artist: Pasadena
Album: Sick And Tired

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Lord, you know, you know, I try
But with this weight upon my table I'll be working 'til the day I die
It's enough to make a man want to lose his mind
Somewhere between a brick wall and a 45

What I seek I'll never find
All my divine has been replaced with dollar signs
But I know some things just can't be found
There high up in the atmosphere hidden by the clouds

Where the roads align we go
Replace mine with cobblestone
Where the problems at home
are too tangible to go

If I should die before I wake
Throw my body in the bay
And let the tide
Carry me away

If I should go to heaven's gates
St. Peter says "Son, you came too late
With the property tax and the interest rates
You can't afford this place"

If I should go to the depths of hell
The politicians took up all the cells
There ain't no room left here for me to dwell

So I go home to where I belong
And I sing my songs to my bedroom wall
Where Rock Bottom ain't too far for me to fall

Home where I belong
Sing my songs to my bedroom wall
Where Rock Bottom ain't too far for me to fall