Saw her in a sandwich shop a million miles away, She acts (if maybe not the best) and I think it's okay, She sings her simple new wave songs with alien
You're in and out and about, At best you act suspicious, I can accept if you don't love me, Please pretend for my sanity, Just make it through this season
My room with girls on the TV, They cry, I don't know what it means, I know that I'm too far away, I know that I'm too far away, I know that I'm too far
I want you to know as you lie in that bed, That I miss you more than any word that I've said, And it meant more to me to touch your forehead, Than all
I never meant to simplify or even understand, I was in the back row, Just trying to watch the band, Oblivious to currents in performance and opinion,
cannot respond, Letters come from every land, I've got nowhere to run, I watch my words, Feel like I'm walking on eggshells, Every other word could be
If I could have any expectation, And looked back a generation, What would be the case? My Grandmother died with the mind of a child, All she did was
Look at you, you're perfect, Hoodie hanging just right, Tattooed arm, cigarettes, Unaware of your might Yeah, sure, your pants are baggy, And your mesmer
I never sleep, which is no surprise, And I don't need to justify why I like to see the sunrise A voice is very close to me, It happened quite unconsciously
As I lie here crushed beneath the wheels of a MUNI bus, The commuters all around me crane their necks to see, By the looks on their faces I must be a
Words are flying at me at the speed of sound, But the machines are too loud for me to hear, He's trying hard to demonstrate something, What it is isn
She's an anybody, She'll be anybody's anything, She says "Anything with anyone Must surely be OK." She says she wants to have a good time, I'm somehow
Your brains went black, When she took back her love, And put it out into the sun, The birds did fly, When the heavens all went dry, And the cigarettes
This is not a one-horse town, If there's a sound it might be coming from the underground, Maybe not, When it's hot it's really, really, really hot, Drink
Ayn Rand is dead, So put down your pen, A whole new generation, Who pointlessly defend, Ayn Rand is dead, And I can not pretend, To embrace a greed,
Backstage passes for the both of you, Again, what does it mean to you, You think you're writing wrongs with your old typewriter, But you haven't got
[Originally by Circle Jerks] Beverly Hills, Century City, Everything's so nice and pretty All the people look the same, Don't they know they're fucking
write your personality, Analysis, yes, very nice, It's changing almost every night, Analysis, yes, very nice, Maybe on some other night
