Sprpunk

Got a chrome bass
And a small face
We're the kids
Shanghai'd in suburbia
Hanging by the threads of our wine
Memorizing all the passage of time
Got a slow pace
And a posh space
We're the kids
Crashed out and impervious

Standing in the back of the line
Cause you're friends are so remarkably fine
And this change is gonna set us awry

Got a new grand
And some trash cans
We're the kids
Implied in perverse

Harmonizing every trebly kind
When your mouth is an assembly line
So short cased in untimely grace
And i don't wanna comb my face!

New york in cold december
You won't pry the sleeves of pretender
Taking all the gloves and the grime
Polarizing all your Kerouac crimes

Two cans cull amps in the bedlam
No nods to thee wed and the red one
When taxis have all gone to the sun
And passerby's so gently run
And I don't wanna run this race

I don't wanna
I don't wanna
I don't wanna
Be on standby



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