Stretched across five miserable miles of parking lot are what seem to be the worst haircuts on Earth and "Yo Dudes" talking in condescending tones (with neanderthal dance moves) at what's hardly a punk show. Maybe I'm reading too much into things. Maybe I'll feel better about it tommorow than I do today, but I'm bothered just enough to say to you that you've got the wrong idea (or at least I'm pretty sure you do). Truly, I can't say anymore and I stopped keeping score six months ago. So, I'll just keep my mouth shut and talk in circles to everyone that I know. I'll paint you a picture: 50 dollar faces in 300 dollar costumes, hardly working, while me and people like me want to punch you like a timecard. Maybe you're reading too much into things; The things you think you need to sell a record. Maybe I'm reading too much into things. Maybe I'll feel better about it tommorow than I do today, but I'm bothered just enough to say to you that you've got the wrong idea (or at least I'm pretty sure you do). "Bitter" is not the word I'd choose and "Jealous" wouldn't work either. But, I'll just keep my mouth shut and talk in circles to everyone that I know. I'll ask myself: "Who's got the wrong idea; Me with nothing or you with everything?" I'm moving at speeds so fast you'd break your neck. Who's got the wrong idea? You with nothing or me with everything?