| Why didn’t you kill yourself today?
|
| What cross, what coupon, what cathode ray
|
| Put this joie de vivre in your diseased heart?
|
| How Anne Hathaway
|
| How Peg Bundy
|
| Thou art
|
| Hey Sugar:
|
| Prove to me that the air you breathe
|
| Wasn’t better served by the leaves of a tree
|
| You’re but a breeder
|
| Tax break receiver
|
| With menopause sweats
|
| A TV tray and a mosh pit son
|
| Who wastes the marrow of his bones
|
| Jumping into these drums
|
| Please tell him:
|
| Don’t stand so (no)
|
| Don’t stand so (close)
|
| Don’t stand so close to me
|
| See, I know your children
|
| Because I’ve been your children
|
| And us children, hopeful children
|
| Ain’t worth the stretch marks baby
|
| ‘Cause we may sing these songs of protest
|
| Cast our ballots, too
|
| Forgo meat and
|
| Ride our bikes and
|
| Get our band’s stupid tattoo
|
| But it means nothing
|
| Nothing
|
| When we get eaten by the sun
|
| Que sera
|
| Que sera
|
| For, whatever there is will soon be all gone
|
| So what’s wrong
|
| With a song
|
| That asks wherefore and why have you lived this long?
|
| A purpose?
|
| You want a reason?
|
| Stop believing
|
| Or stop needing the answers
|
| There are no answers
|
| Except the sun, the sun, the sun
|
| While you sit on your couch
|
| And wait up for your boy
|
| We’re polluting his mind with this
|
| (noise) |