Replacements (The)
Bastards Of Young
God, what a mess, on the ladder of success Where you take one step and miss the whole first rung Dreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilled It beats pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young The daughters and the sons
Clean your baby womb, trash that baby boom
Elvis in the ground, there ain't no beer tonight
Income tax deduction, what a hell of a function It beats pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Unwillingness to claim us, ya got no word (war? no one?) to name us
The ones who love us best are the ones we'll lay to rest
And visit their graves on holidays at best The ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please
If it's any consolation, I don't begin to understand them
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
We are the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons
Young...take it, it's yours...
From Letras Mania