Bourgeois Shangri-La

Vacation and barbecue Small talking and nothing to do You keep it locked in a shopping cart A bourgeois shangri-la I got a feeling that I don't belong Got a feeling that I shouldn't be here You can't stand another single day I gotta get away Talking shit about the neighbor's wife But when she comes you put on a big smile Like to throw up in a Gucci bag She's coming here to brag I got a feeling that I don't belong Got a feeling that I shouldn't be here Can't stand another single day Gotta get away A house and a boat and a great shiny car Things just to prove you'll go far Soda streamer, widescreen TV, cute little dog Perfect in your shallow bourgeois Shangri-la, ahh I got a feeling that I don't belong I got a feeling that I shouldn't be here Can't stand another single day I gotta get away, ohh! Ohh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I-I, oh, I gotta get away (gotta get away) I gotta, I gotta, I get away, oooh Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! La la la la la, la la la la Go away, away, away, away, away, ahh! La la la la la, ahh! I gotta get away

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