Magazine Street - Radio Edit

You allied yourself then with the fleeing druggies
All this now preemptive running up into the wind
Chalk it up at best to half-baked ill intention
You might as well just see these kids exactly as they are

Not a band of halfwits going through a phase
Not a strand of hair or nor a color in their face
Left for dead instead and as empty as a cage

Just don't you remember them as angry
Should you even remember them at all
You're always low on Saturdays when
You start your year early in the fall

All these cloudless kids inching closer to their lords, to be ignored

You will defy your wealth and end up on a gurney
Stuck inside this bright new cavern, locked onto your back
And they'll wait for you, just outside of the lobby
Begging pills from patients who still don't know who they are

Not a night to fight with nurses bearing toothaches
Not a win in sight, I'd be gone upon a breeze
Stay alight tonight, you're always finding new ways

But don't you remember them as angry
Should you even remember them at all
You're always low on Saturdays when
You start your year early in the fall

All these toothless grins marching on to lesser things, bring 'em in