Wishy washy

I got a place with a view You can see the cars As they travel down the freeway To clubs and bars There's a woman downstairs With matt-grey hair And she smiles when she tells me There's no room for me here They've got it in the city They've got it in the country But here in the suburbs It's all so wishy-washy It's all so wishy-washy I got another place This time with a fireplace And a woman can come around Write poetry and feel safe I said it's good for me now But I'm not being fed I said it's good for me now But I'm not being fed