’ssur’nces ‘rom the h’art that I a’ not an aisle at a groc’ry ‘tore

sharp practice type setting in the gulfweed ov’sell’ control
y’u ‘ake from mee lik I’m frigid tall’boy in a veg’table aisle,
organic and sw’t, fair trade to e’se y’r conscience, aloft
but this moody grift that you h’ve o’er me w’ll n’t last forever
one day, I’w’l make a liv’in wit’ lyric, and y’ll be glad
to h’lp support mey a’d mayy fam’ly rowing ‘pon the d’y