| This must be the place
|
| I can tell by your glare
|
| I wouldn’t touch you on a dare
|
| Seven months to June and even then, so what?
|
| My mouth is open, my book is shut
|
| My air guitar is out of tune
|
| My stupid hair is so '82 to you
|
| At least I don’t fit in
|
| Corner me in Chemistry
|
| It’s all just simple math to me
|
| Call me your names
|
| Make them stick
|
| I’ll laugh until I am sick
|
| Glad that that’s all through
|
| Got better friends to do
|
| Just can’t remember where I left them
|
| I’ll see you all in class
|
| Not if I ditch first
|
| Expect the best, accept the worst
|
| Walk until your blush subsides
|
| Drink beneath the 405 in the ivy and think about that girl
|
| Two grades below
|
| She pierced her nose way before it was cool
|
| Some older guy with a motorbike picks her up after school
|
| This school’s a living hell
|
| I work and don’t get paid
|
| I smoke a lot and can’t get laid
|
| Sit and stare, it’s all we do
|
| All my friends are broken, too
|
| We’re just waiting. |
| Waiting to begin
|
| Corner me in Chemistry
|
| It’s all just simple math to me
|
| Call me your names
|
| Make them stick
|
| I’ll laugh until I am sick |