I used to believe in language
Rythum pitch and tone
Words etched into my bones
My walls were caked
In symbols of chaos
Boyhood hopes
Of a better world
Sun would rise
And fuckin so would I
To meet it's glare undaunted
Undaunted
And now I've moved out of my mother's house
Twenty three
Big boy now
Job in spar
Part time cash flow pair of hands pioneer on the payroll
Formed a band
Hurt my hand
Bag of peas
Help me please
I want to be a young man
Live youth and flaunt it
Instead of being so twisted
Exhausted
Exhausted
I never wanted to become
One of those sad broken punks
Singin about the the old days
When anger was fertile
Moaning
About how living is futile
That's not me
And that's not you
We've got better things to do
I see you lying in that hospital bed
Screaming
CHAMPO!
We're not dead yet.
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