| Song | The Bag |
| Artist | NOFX |
| Album | White Trash, Two Heebs and a Bean |
| 作词 : Fat Mike | |
| Endless evenings of non-exist | |
| Are getting shorter, monotonous | |
| Like an intruder, | |
| I belong outside | |
| Although I find myself right back | |
| The same place | |
| I was before | |
| Saying things | |
| I'd say once more | |
| There's no reason for me to be here, no | |
| I feel so lonesome, surrounded by friends | |
| Who are talking at me, saying things | |
| I couldn't care less about this dialogue is without | |
| Worth, content, significance | |
| Conversational ambivalence | |
| Hear the same things every night , it just ain't right | |
| To be left holding the bag | |
| Give me something | |
| I can sink my teeth into | |
| Show me a time, tell me a story | |
| That I haven't heard a million times before | |
| I pass out from boredom as | |
| I watch the people pass | |
| I see moments in their lives, nothing fascinating | |
| Are we all living for the past, never realizing | |
| We're clinging to an empty bag | |
| Lacking content, significance | |
| Conversational ambivalence | |
| Say the same thing every night, it just ain't right | |
| We'll see who's left holding the bag |
| zuò cí : Fat Mike | |
| Endless evenings of nonexist | |
| Are getting shorter, monotonous | |
| Like an intruder, | |
| I belong outside | |
| Although I find myself right back | |
| The same place | |
| I was before | |
| Saying things | |
| I' d say once more | |
| There' s no reason for me to be here, no | |
| I feel so lonesome, surrounded by friends | |
| Who are talking at me, saying things | |
| I couldn' t care less about this dialogue is without | |
| Worth, content, significance | |
| Conversational ambivalence | |
| Hear the same things every night , it just ain' t right | |
| To be left holding the bag | |
| Give me something | |
| I can sink my teeth into | |
| Show me a time, tell me a story | |
| That I haven' t heard a million times before | |
| I pass out from boredom as | |
| I watch the people pass | |
| I see moments in their lives, nothing fascinating | |
| Are we all living for the past, never realizing | |
| We' re clinging to an empty bag | |
| Lacking content, significance | |
| Conversational ambivalence | |
| Say the same thing every night, it just ain' t right | |
| We' ll see who' s left holding the bag |