F.Y.P LYRICS

"Die Young"

I don't care for anything. I can't stand this anyway.
I'd live fast if it were fun. Am I old enough to die
young? I count one and I count two. I hope to hell
I don't see you. I'm waiting for these goddamn doors.
Transport, I gotta transport.
Hey mom and dad, don't shop at the universities.
Don't worry about the future or the matter of
succeeding. I'm not bluffing about how I don't wanna
live to be 34. But when I'm 40, I'll sing it once more.
The Brittle Boned boys march again. We'll validate
with cheap slogans and reminisce about being dum kids.
But then, of course, go sing it again.
Am I scared or just plain bored? I try things I wouldn't
before. My 10 foot pole got cut real short.
And curiosity's not what for. Self destruct from apathy.
My domestic enemy. I'm sick of right, I'm sick of wrong.
Is this real or just a dum song?
Hey this is not the way I wanted things to be. This
is not my blueprint, just plan Z. To be naive to
recessitate. And dig a foot a week to get out of your
grave. Mouth to mouth, to taste behind. Pay no
mind to bankrupt minds. Ignore the stale noose around
your neck. I've got more respect for ripe slit wrists.
Pretentious gen x is all I see from you.
Kill what's dead, find something new.

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