[Originally by F.Y.P.]
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I don't care for anything
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I can't stand this anyway
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I'd live fast if it were fun
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Am I old enough to die young?
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I count one and I count two
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I hope to hell I don't see you
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I'm waiting on these goddamn drugs
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Transport, I gotta transport
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Hey Mom and Dad don't shop universities
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Don't worry about our future or the matter of succeeding
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I'm not bluffing on how I don't wanna live to be 34
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But when I'm 40 I'll sing it once more
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The brittled boned boys march again
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they'll validate with cheap slogans
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and reminisce about being dumb kids
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But then of course go sing it again
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Am I scared or just plain bored
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I'll try things I wouldn't before
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My ten foot pole got cut real short
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And curiosities not what for
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Self destruction from apathy
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My domestic enemy
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I'm sick of right I'm sick of wrong
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Is This real or just a dumb song
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Hey this is not the way I wanted things to be
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It's not my blueprint it's just plan z
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To be naive to recessitate and dig
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a foot a week to get out of your grave
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Mouth to mouth to taste behind
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Pay no mind to bankrupt minds
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Ignore the stale noose around your neck
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I got more respect for ripe slit wrists
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Pretentious gen x is all I see from you
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Kill what's dead find something new
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Die Young
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Off With Their Heads |