|
Used up your best days working on yourself |
|
Trying to turn your bones and blood into something you could sell |
|
Something you could pawn off as intelligent |
|
You spend your whole life working on your health |
|
Until one day your atoms disassemble and go on to form something else |
|
Try telling that to your therapist |
|
Well, we stand for nothing, sugar, it's just generation drunk-text |
|
Gonna love you like a cherub, gonna leave you like a lap dance |
|
Oh, you wanna save it, oh, you wanna save the world |
|
You keep pouring out your heart but all |
|
I ever hear is oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh |
|
Oh, oh-oh-oh oh |
|
Ode to generation handclap |
|
Oh, oh-oh-oh oh |
|
Ode to generation handclap |
|
Used up your best days working on yourself |
|
Trying to turn your bones and blood into something you could sell |
|
Something you could pawn off as intelligent |
|
You spend your whole life working on your health |
|
Until one day your atoms disassemble and go on to form something else |
|
Try telling that to your therapist |
|
Well, we stand for nothing, sugar, it's just generation drunk-text |
|
Gonna love you like a cherub, gonna leave you like a lap dance |
|
Oh, you wanna save it, oh, you wanna save the world |
|
You keep pouring out your heart but all |
|
I ever hear is oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh |
|
Oh, oh-oh-oh oh |
|
Ode to generation handclap |
|
Oh, oh-oh-oh oh |
|
Ode to generation handclap |
|
A movement without motion |
|
Like altered states or religious grace |
|
All the chemical burns and miracle cures |
|
The target market debates, mercury in retrograde |
|
The boyfriend cannon fodder, the dragonfly blotter |
|
Another complicated lover, another pharmaceutical summer |
|
They say you are what you read |
|
Well you can be |
|
Coupland, |
|
I'll be Murakami |