And it's true that we're teenage fools
Trading five days a week to work and school
Justto sneak around on weekends watching for the cops, to dance in abandoned parking lots, and call these cracks in the system a revolution
bu*to the Vanguard Party that's criticizing: what have you been up to the Soviet Union?
When you're not starving, life is just the mechanics of eating
Talking to you is raw eternity, but what isn't these days?
And if our only gift is this dark black void, to me that's okay
Becauseour nihilism is the terrorist wing of youthful apathy:
Burn everything down just to drink in the ruins of what used to be an American city
So if it's all the same, then I'll pa** out tonight still hating punk rock
But in love with you and the kitchen floor that you let me sleep on
There's whiskey in my bottle!
And you know there's enough for you
I'll join you in that grave you're digging if there's room enough for two
Where there's no risk of d**h, life is just the logistics of breath
Tomorrow I'll wake up in a ditch
With every friend that ever meant anything
Lying right there next to me
Tomorrow I'll wake up in a ditch with every friend that ever meant anything on the opposite side of the country. but i still wouldn't trade anything for the nights when the rain promised us at 2 AM in some burnout industrial shell of a town that will never be dry again. and I'll keep walking, and running, and drinking towards a day that i can see suicide as a tragedy