Selective unity these days; never seemed so laughable.
Entourage reach arounds, you only want to experiment.
Hardcore kids crab walk, the scenesters are all smiles.
Moshing replaced with karate kicks, eat your hearts out.

Chorus: A legacy in your sister’s jeans.
It looks like the hair dye has gone through that thick skull.
A starving artist, hopeless romantic or swindler!?
Your mascara runs deep.

Getting laid by mirror images is your prerogative.
Looking flamboyant; should definitively be illicit.
A delicate unstable hand writes distraught lyrics.
That detuned instruments will muffle and recast!

Trendy lip rings help drip blood, down her t-shirt.
Tear off that top and flash, young supple breasts.
This teenage bitch shouldn’t have her senses fail.
A pretentious song: played in the key of screams.

Repeat Chorus (x2)

Scarfs in the summertime, the world is cold.
Your backwards, your estrogen is all used up.
…and I never liked your horn-rimmed glasses.
Roof overhead is side bangs and modern art.

Life is pain.
But, cheer up.
If you have an apparatus.
You can take back Norma.

You’re desensitized by bad ass breakdowns.
But, the rest of us will always be footloose.
Glitter has sprinkled and glam has defamed.
...and from under the cork tree, I lay dying.