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God, what a mess, on the ladder of success |
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Where you take one step and miss the whole first rung |
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Dreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilled |
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It beats pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten |
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We are the sons of no-one, bastards of young |
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We are the sons of no-one, bastards of young |
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The daughters and the sons |
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Clean your baby womb, trash that baby boom |
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Elvis in the ground, there'll ain't no beer tonight |
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Income tax deduction, what a hell of a function |
|
It beats pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten |
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We are the sons of no-one, bastards of young |
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We are the sons of no-one, bastards of young |
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Now the daughters and the sons |
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Unwillingness to claim us, you got no word to name us |
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The ones who love us best are the ones we'll lay to rest |
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And visit their graves on holidays at best |
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The ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please |
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If it's any consolation, I don't begin to understand them |
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We are the sons of no one, bastards of young |
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We are the sons of no one, bastards of young |
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The daughters and the sons |
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Young, young |
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Young, young, young |
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Take it's yours |
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Take it's yours |
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Take it's yours |
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... |
