1, 2, 3

Well I want to try and hold my head up high
In this busted-up Pinto truck conversion
Between the broken concrete and the clouded sky
Well you have to make an effort with me
Can you make it look like your chauffeurin' me?
Enough gas to get us home now, if we glide

When we took this job, I thought that you knew the deal
I told the boss we had a Mercedes-Benz
But all we got in our yard is a steering wheel
Well I can't borrow this tuxedo much longer
Well we might have to cut your long hair
I don't mind you wearing a wig, but I won't steal

Yea well, honey, we can't afford to look this cheap
We need to make it look like we're high class
So a hollow cellphone can't be beat
I can't help but wonder if this time next year
Will we be drinking Dom Perignon or reheated beer?
Well honey, we can't afford to look this cheap

We have to keep up appearances as long as we can
There's too much to lose:
Our social status, our ice machine and our ceiling fan
And if they find out we ain't real songwriters
That we go dutch on cigarette lighters
We're gonna lose the paradise that's in our hands

Well honey, we can't afford to look this cheap
Got an image to live up to here
In the best motel on Impostor Street
While the Jones's are waltzing off to dinner
We're gluing are lottery tickets together
Trying to make us a winner

Well honey, we can't afford to look this cheap