|
Generic America:
|
|
Some people want to tell me its fine.
|
Spend your whole life waiting in a line.
|
Well go ahead, join the living dead.
|
I've got a different plan for mine.
|
|
When the sun comes over the sea.
|
I'll tell ya where I'm gonna be
|
Ridin in the van with the rest of my band.
|
The wheels singing in my dreams.
|
|
Chorus:
|
Please fogive me if I can't learn to live in Generic America
|
Where the wavy fields got paved.
|
The kids are out looking for a rave,
|
and the rest of us sat on our big fat ass,
|
watching the rose bowl parade.
|
Oh why can't you see, I can't be me in your Generic America,
|
don't want to live vicariously, in a virutal reality.
|
Shopping malls and prison walls all look the same to me.
|
|
So don't try to tell me its fine.
|
don't try to tell me I'm wasting my time.
|
Everybody line up, piss in a cup,
|
you got to be out of your mind
|
Cause I'll do it any way I choose
|
All over your desginer shoes.
|
Beware of the ruffian who ain't got nothing
|
he ain't got nothing to loose.
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Generic America
|
Blue Mountain |