Wig in a Box / Wicked Little Town

On nights like this
When the world's a bit amiss
And the lights go down
Across the trailer park
I get down
I feel had
I feel on the verge of going mad
And then it's time to punch the clock

I put on some make-up
And turn up the tape deck
And pull the wig down on my head
Suddenly I'm Miss Midwest
Midnight Checkout Queen
Until I head home
And put myself to bed

I look back on where I'm from
Look at the woman I've become
And the strangest things
Seem suddenly routine
I look up from my vermouth on the rocks
The gift-wrapped wig still in the box
Of towering velveteen

I put on some makeup
Some LaVern Baker
I'm pullin' the wig down from the shelf
And suddenly I'm Miss Beehive 1963
Until I wake up
And turn back...

You think that Luck has left you there
But maybe there's nothing up in the sky but air
But there's no mystical design
No cosmic lover preassigned
There's nothing you can find
That cannot be found

And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town
Ah, ah...
Ahh!

Some girls they have natural ease
They wear it any way they please
With their French flip curls
And perfumed magazines
Wear it up
Wear it down
This is the best way that I've found
To be the best you've ever seen

I put on some makeup
Turn on the eight-track
I'm pullin' the wig down from the shelf
And suddenly I'm this punk rock star
Of stage and screen
Until I wake up
And I turn back to myself
I turn back to myself
I turn back to myself