My girlfriend's working down on BroadwaynShe's paying my billsnShe wakes up early in the mornin'nAbout the time that I get innnAnd I've got stains on my T-shirtnIt's been a week since I shavednShe's been begging me to get a jobnBut I know it can waitnnSo send me your hate mailnAnd tell me I'm a wastennA loser girlfriendnI guess she's satisfiednA loser girlfriendnI can't imagine whynnMy girlfriend's working down on BroadwaynEleven hours a daynAnd I can barely play a guitarnBut one day it's gonna paynnSo send me your hate mailnBut send it to her placenAnd tell me I'm a wastennA loser girlfriendnI guess she's satisfiednA loser girlfriendnI can't imagine whynnA loser girlfriendnI've got nothing to losenA loser girlfriendnI've got nothing to provennIt's the twenty-first centurynSo I'll take whatever she gives menAnd I know she'll never leaven'Cause I'm her girlfriendnnA loser girlfriendnI guess she's satisfiednA loser girlfriendnI can't imagine whynnA loser girlfriend (a loser girlfriend)nI've got nothing to losenA loser girlfriend (a loser girlfriend)nI've got nothing to provennMy girlfriend's working down on BroadwaynAnd I don't give a fuck