| White skin underwater
|
| You know she’s somebody’s daughter
|
| You know I’m somebody’s daughter
|
| I’m here tonight and I want her
|
| I’m here tonight and I’ve got her
|
| And it’s cold in the water
|
| I wonder if I should bother
|
| You know she’s somebody’s daughter
|
| When she gets old it’ll haunt her
|
| I’m here tonight, I have got her
|
| Seventeen
|
| So unclean
|
| Yeah
|
| When I was young I was far-out
|
| We can hold hands, we can make-out
|
| Sit silent or cry out
|
| You’re pretty when you cop-out
|
| Transgendered and washed out
|
| And I can see past your short hair
|
| Tellin' me that you don’t care
|
| He ain’t here but here’s somewhere
|
| I’m all fucked up so I don’t care
|
| I know I’m in, but I’m out there
|
| Seventeen
|
| So unclean
|
| Ohh
|
| Seventeen
|
| So unclean
|
| Will they ever forgive us?
|
| All wet-lipped and guiltless?
|
| In our heads we’re like winners
|
| Though we’re just beginners
|
| At some miserable game
|
| I’ll take you out to Ar-kansas
|
| Where there’s beer and molasses
|
| We’ll let the times fly on past us
|
| The whole world, kiss our asses
|
| Through red trees and white trashes |
| Seventeen
|
| So unclean
|
| Ohh
|
| Seventeen
|
| So unclean
|
| Oh my god |