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Go on.
You'll be the one to always complain,
Three in the morning come a bang bang bang,
All out of fags and I just can't wait,
Cancel the thing that I said I'd do,
I don't feel comfortable talking to you,
Unless you got the zipper fixed on my shoe,
Then I'll be in the lobby drinking for two.
Eighteen, Balding, Star.
Golden, Falling, Hard.
Look at the shakies,
What's with the blush?
Fresh off the plane in my fuzzy rush.
Everyone's gathered to idolize me,
I hate the way you talk, your Japanese scream.
It's been too long since I've left the shed,
You kick the bucket, I'll swing my legs.
Always remember the pact that we made,
Too young to die, but old is the grave.
This is the only Bad Religion album I can bring myself to ever listen to. The rest suck.