New tongues for grass and a half a year's past for brats who sing



New songs for friends who dirty their pants with mud in my hands



Of course you want me

Of course you want me

Of course you want me to feel the way you do



I was born to die my friends

and we are the closest to the end

of our lives and your cryptic face is filling me with pain



Ooh I hate you

Ooh I hate you

My life's alright without you