Albert Camus

Running around this run-down, one-horse town

One of these days, they're gonna crucify me

How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable it is to be young, dumb and have lots of money

We will sit upon this grassy knoll

Holding hands and stroking handguns, with pristine souls

And even my own mother will tell you I am an asshole

But underneath it all, there is an apathetic heart of gold

So who will be saved, from the least to the greatest men?

Because even Honest Abe sold posion milk to schoolchildren

The blood drive came to Glen Rock High in a white bus with red letters on the side

And a long shiny needle they brought to suck me dry like missionary misquitoes in the sky

Now you're doing time for stealing candy from a babe

Because all the kids in Ridgewood have got cell phones these days and if you wear a mask

They can still read your license plate and a wireless line is a terrible thing to waste

Because the more we think, the less it all makes sense, tonight we will drink to our general indifference

Lamb of God, we think nothing of ourselves at all

So, Death, be not proud because we don't give a fuck about nothing and we only want what we are not allowed