When you walk home from the party
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Drunk on bacardi and listening
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To the voices that lie to you nightly,
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Make you frightened of everyone,
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Make you sorry for something.
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You go home and spend your life alone with the stereo,
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Watching the late show; or force yourself
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Out in the night to meet your generation.
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You feel like claymation in fluorescent light.
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On our knees, we made it hard to see,
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We made it hard to breathe and the air was thin.
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|
-----------------
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Bacardi
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| Nada Surf |
