Cubicle Girl
from: Folk Remedy
Well I'm 30 years old it might be time to rethink
This life of eating tuna from the can over the sink
All my girls up to this point been anorexic and bohemian
Teenage turtlenecky bi-sexy academian
It's time a took a dip into the corporate world
O lord I need a cubicle girl
Well my last girlfriend used to help me write songs
Whenever she was not out picket-lining helping write the wrongs
Drag me all the time to meetings, fuck it was fatiguing
And besides I had no protein in my system we ate vegan
Never had a damn dime to pay the rent or buy a meal
But heck we always had a dollar to protect a baby seal
Well the girl before that she was artsier than thou
I'd tell her I just wrote a folk song, and she'd say "you? how?"
Make me spend all of my spare time mixing up her precious paint
For a portrait of me that she titled "Dylan, you ain't"
I'm not lying or denying that it's pretty perverse
This lady left me for the lady in the previous verse
Well it's time I got a girl gets out of bed before noon
And maybe one who sometimes showers in between full moons
Takes a train to work, a fresh pressed dress suit
That's the kind of girl I gotta find and recruit
I see'em all the time 18th and JFK
O lord send a cubicle girl my way
CHORUS
I need a
Cubicle girl
Cute little
Cubicle girl
If I could have one wish in this word
I'd want a
Cubicle girl
Well I need to find a girly who is easily impressed
When I tell her that she's on the list and she's my guest
Find a girly I can glom onto and blow of of her feet
When I say honey look what I wrote G C D
And if I play it just right, here's my humble hunch
Maybe she can type my lyrics up on breaks and during lunch
I want a girl who watches Cindy Crawford's workout before work
And lend me money for her gifts, cause I'm an artist not a jerk
All her extra income gleefully to me she funnels
At night I pray to God above she don't get carpal tunnel
Tape a check to the fridge for the folks who pressed my demo
Leave a post-it on my brow a dork I love you yellow memo
Well I'd live my whole life with her cater to her every need
Her happiness my number 2 concern right after scoring weed
And maybe writing brilliant music to go with my brilliant words
And tellin other guys she's got the clap to keep them all deterred
We'd live happy ever after we'd be set I'd have it made
I'd only dump her if and when I found a Trust Fund Babe
CHORUS
This life of eating tuna from the can over the sink
All my girls up to this point been anorexic and bohemian
Teenage turtlenecky bi-sexy academian
It's time a took a dip into the corporate world
O lord I need a cubicle girl
Well my last girlfriend used to help me write songs
Whenever she was not out picket-lining helping write the wrongs
Drag me all the time to meetings, fuck it was fatiguing
And besides I had no protein in my system we ate vegan
Never had a damn dime to pay the rent or buy a meal
But heck we always had a dollar to protect a baby seal
Well the girl before that she was artsier than thou
I'd tell her I just wrote a folk song, and she'd say "you? how?"
Make me spend all of my spare time mixing up her precious paint
For a portrait of me that she titled "Dylan, you ain't"
I'm not lying or denying that it's pretty perverse
This lady left me for the lady in the previous verse
Well it's time I got a girl gets out of bed before noon
And maybe one who sometimes showers in between full moons
Takes a train to work, a fresh pressed dress suit
That's the kind of girl I gotta find and recruit
I see'em all the time 18th and JFK
O lord send a cubicle girl my way
CHORUS
I need a
Cubicle girl
Cute little
Cubicle girl
If I could have one wish in this word
I'd want a
Cubicle girl
Well I need to find a girly who is easily impressed
When I tell her that she's on the list and she's my guest
Find a girly I can glom onto and blow of of her feet
When I say honey look what I wrote G C D
And if I play it just right, here's my humble hunch
Maybe she can type my lyrics up on breaks and during lunch
I want a girl who watches Cindy Crawford's workout before work
And lend me money for her gifts, cause I'm an artist not a jerk
All her extra income gleefully to me she funnels
At night I pray to God above she don't get carpal tunnel
Tape a check to the fridge for the folks who pressed my demo
Leave a post-it on my brow a dork I love you yellow memo
Well I'd live my whole life with her cater to her every need
Her happiness my number 2 concern right after scoring weed
And maybe writing brilliant music to go with my brilliant words
And tellin other guys she's got the clap to keep them all deterred
We'd live happy ever after we'd be set I'd have it made
I'd only dump her if and when I found a Trust Fund Babe
CHORUS