Wishy washy

I got a place with a view

You can see the cars

As they travel down the freeway

To clubs and bars

There's a woman downstairs

With matt-grey hair

And she smiles when she tells me

There's no room for me here

They've got it in the city

They've got it in the country

But here in the suburbs

It's all so wishy-washy

It's all so wishy-washy

I got another place

This time with a fireplace

And a woman can come around

Write poetry and feel safe

I said it's good for me now

But I'm not being fed

I said it's good for me now

But I'm not being fed