I remember laying down, it was 1983
Under the tree while listening to London Calling or something like that
Twenty-three years later, I'm here at a meeting
Trying to impress someone at a dying record company
But I got nothing to prove
And in walks in this sullen girl who looks like she's nineteen, or wants to be
Her hair dyed black and her biker boots
Well, I did that look so many years ago
She looks at me like I'm some square or I'm her mother
Well, fuck you, kid; I've got nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
Once I was as miserable as you
Nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
I got nothing to prove
Here I am in Los Angeles
I came here two years ago
And everyone's young and beautiful, and their skin's so smooth
And everyone's in the industry, and I hate when they use that word
And when they say they're in the industry, I say, "Oh, are you in steel?"
Well, I got nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
Once I was as miserable as you
Nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
I got nothing to prove
Later that week I saw that same girl shopping at the Trader Joe's
She was with a big bomb blonde, and I wondered if it was her girlfriend
And to my surprise, she ran up to me and smiled and said, "I loved our meeting"
Well, I was wrong about her
But usually I'm right
Well, I've got nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
Once I was as miserable as you
Nothing to prove
Nothing to prove
I got nothing to prove
Nothing To Prove Lyrics performed by Jill Sobule are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Nothing To Prove Lyrics performed by Jill Sobule is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD