One radio station talking songs of great harmony The other one talks too much sh** One D.J.'s personal and the other's quite versatile But to me it's all gibberish As I'm lying on the ground cold, stoned and hollow Slum to a curb With all the infected needles from dishonest people They take life and don't give a sh** They cry, la da tida da tida Yeah, we're broke, but we're free Ain't that you and me? They cry, la da tida da tida Yeah, we're broke, but we're free Whoa, whoa Well I've got friends, they go sick to bed Grown men still living with their mothers Yeah, they b**h and they whine to me They tell me it ain't right to be thirty and have so many bills They cry, la da tida da tida Yeah, but they live free That's not me They cry, la da tida da tida Yeah, but they live free Whoa La-ti-da La-ti-da Is it love that brings us closer to who we are? Or is it love that makes us run away? Gotta get away, oh Or is it love that brings us hope? One radio station talking songs of great harmony The other one's still talking sh** The one D.J.'s personal and the other's still versatile But to me it's all gibberish They cry, la da tida da tida Yeah, we're broke, but we're free Ain't that you and me? They cry, la da tida da tida Yeah, we're broke, but we're free Whoa, whoa La-ti-da Whoa, whoa, whoa La-ti-da Whoa, whoa La-ti-da La-ti-da La-ti-da La-ti-da La-ti-da