|
Stranded in the streets of San Francisco |
|
A rusty car pulled along side of me |
|
I looked behind the wheel and I started to squeal |
|
An idol's face was staring at me. |
|
Don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity |
|
Sittin' shotgun, out of my brain |
|
Im up for draggin' through the art ghettos |
|
Stepped on the gas, gums started to flap |
|
Punk rock manifestoes |
|
Spittin', fumin', |
|
The streets are filled with so much glass that I wanted to break |
|
Eyes spinnin' 'round |
|
As my feet shook the ground |
|
Like the San Francisco earthquake |
|
Don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity |
|
Don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity |
|
I'm not the enemy |
|
Please don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity |
|
Stranded in the streets of San Francisco |
|
A rusty car pulled along side of me |
|
I looked behind the wheel and I started to squeal |
|
An idol's face was staring at me |
|
Spittin', fumin', |
|
The streets are filled with so much glass that I wanted to break |
|
Eyes spinnin' 'round |
|
As my feet shook the ground |
|
Like the San Francisco earthquake |
|
Don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity |
|
Don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity |
|
Don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity (ha!) |
|
I'm not the enemy (no) |
|
Please don't preach to me |
|
Mr. integrity |
