We're all real good at lying, mostly to ourselves, about what matters when it matters most. i've gotten caught up in the same bullsh** as everyone one else, and i guess that's what really k**s me. of course, there's no great tragedy to be found among a bunch of privileged kids deceived by rock n' roll and promo shots instead of office jobs and proper front yards, but still i feel uneasy at times. we're just all so f*cking eager to believe that this matters, that something might-maybe it's the desperation that throws me off. sometimes i can't tell whether it's all in good fun or if it's something much worse and i want to scream, but i bite my tongue so much...
F*ck, this is not what we need
Everything is not all ok
We're all lying, and we have such a sad time together
Each night, all guts and juice and ready to light out
Kids trusting each other's bullsh**
No idea where we're going or what any arrows might mean
Someone should be sounding an alarm for no one to hear
We flaunt where we fail so viciously
We wear flaws and our holes on our sleeves;
But only talk about some hearts
We're all so goddamn eager and lost from the start
We need ''real straight talk about souls,''
Promises, kids with hearts of gold
We're dying on a diet of lies
And i just want some black and white
Some old fashioned chivalry
A split second of honesty
I'll admit, i get caught up in the same bullsh**
I've gotten lost in syntax and sneakers
I've broken promises and lied
And sometimes i catch myself with someone else's words in my mouth
And i get an empty feeling deep down in my stomach
But this competition is k**ing me:
I'm telling you, these boys with a shine in their teeth make me uneasy (god its k**ing me)
Thin kids, too freshly scrubbed, too pink faced
Always in long pants; their bony knees too much to bear
Listen to me:i can't tell you what i think
This city is eating away at my soul, bronze and old
With these kids: desperate, vapid, cra**
We're out on the town and there's no going home
Making names and making time
Let me promise you one or two things:
If i could tell you the truth, i might
And if i could write a song you couldn't hear until i am gone
A song where i said what i meant and what's wrong
It would be quite different than this one
Trust me: i'm not just screaming because the music is loud