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oh the high school kids they're all fucked up touching eachother oh my god yeah and fourty ounces was never enough. We want to pass out in our yard, we want to pass out. Dressing in drag you're best friends clothes while boys kissed boys in hotel rooms. Oh and just when we thought we were no longer lost, they kicked us into the dirty streets of Atlanta. So it's Friday night down on North Avenue where gas station parking lot prostitutes tried to fix their hair in our rearview mirrors. You know were just trying to get into a club and shake our asses. A caravan of kids, some big old mess. On an old wooden dock, oh we're bored to death. We've got a bottle of wine, a fresh pack of smokes, going to end up screaming about some midnight garage sale. So God, put down your gun, cant you see were dead? God, put down your hand, were not listening. Microphone cut off so were screaming at the top of our lungs. You are born so fresh, a golden prize until you scrape that knee and quickly realize that you're lost in a fog on your way to death. A thick black line. So you better speak up, better raise that voice. Come on scream loud all you girls and boys. Lets get wild, lets rejoice. Come on. I want to hear that fucking noise. Oh the push and pull of everything, oh this nightmare of electricity. We are the living dead, yeah the living dead. Thats the way it is. Thats the way its always been. Oh that snake slithered past my house today. I heard he caught you on the dark highway. No the clouds didn' part they just grew into a storm God put down your hand, were not listening. We never were. Oh I want to fuck it up. And I feel so alive.




Whichever you want.