keeping with time
taking it too far
losing my mind
but it won’t too hard
to find it again
I never had much sense
so what have I got to lose?
there’s a world outside
so why are we locked up
staying solid faced
like we don’t give a fuck
acting like all
we fucking need
is a heavy angry song
to help us feel free
no matter what we say
everything has its end
and some day some day
we’ll grow up and then
what do we have left?
these angry nights
in these sweat soaked rooms
the coolest of clothes
smelling like ass and booze
what do we have left?
I don’t want to hold on
‘til I’m old and grey
stapled to the bar
forgetting every damn day
looking at the kids
with their fashion and their fists
muttering
“yeah that used to be me”
I don’t want to be
I don’t want to be
I don’t want to be
a past tense
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