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Why should I care |
|
If I have to cut my hair? |
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I've got to move with the fashions |
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Or be outcast. |
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I know I should fight |
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But my old man he's really alright, |
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And I'm still living at home |
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Even though it won't last. |
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Zoot suit, white jacket with side vents |
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Five inches long. |
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I'm out on the street again |
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And I'm leaping along. |
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I'm dressed right for a beach fight, |
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But I just can't explain |
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Why that uncertain feeling is still |
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Here in my brain. |
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The kids at school |
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Have parents that seem so cool. |
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And though I don't want to hurt them |
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Mine want me their way. |
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I clean my room and my shoes |
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But my mother found a box of blues, |
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And there doesn't seem much hope |
|
They'll let me stay. |
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Zoot suit, |
|
[etc.] |
|
Why do I have to be different to them? |
|
Just to earn the respect of a dance hall friend, |
|
We have the same old row, again and again. |
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Why do I have to move with a crowd |
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Of kids that hardly notice I'm around, |
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I have to work myself to death just to fit in. |
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I'm coming down |
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Got home on the very first train from town. |
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My dad just left for work |
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He wasn't talking. |
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It's all a game, |
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'Cos inside I'm just the same, |
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My fried egg makes me sick |
|
First thing in the morning. |
