| Homecoming parade
|
| Float blows through the stockade
|
| Crowd crushed by the sheer weight
|
| Of their own Division III Football Team
|
| But I won’t be at the wake
|
| The funeral I can’t make
|
| Though I’m told there’s a lunch buffet
|
| And it’s hard to say no to a free meal
|
| Under the bridge smoking weed
|
| You hear the news and then you think
|
| An arrow to the heart of what I hated
|
| The head torn off of the thing I can’t stand
|
| The plug pulled on the source of my trouble
|
| Now I’ll fake my death and head out West and put this shit behind me
|
| Under the bridge smoking weed
|
| You hear the news and then you think
|
| An arrow to the heart of what I hated
|
| The head torn off of the thing I can’t stand
|
| The plug pulled on the source of my trouble
|
| Now I’ll fake my death and head out West and put this shit behind me
|
| But it’s the same
|
| Same dirt, same sun
|
| Different you?
|
| Good fucking luck
|
| But it’s the same
|
| Same dirt, same sun
|
| Different you?
|
| What’s the problem?
|
| This should work, what’s the problem?
|
| What’s the problem?
|
| This should work, what’s the problem?
|
| What’s the problem?
|
| This should work, what’s the problem?
|
| What’s the problem?
|
| This should work, what’s the problem now? |