(Lyrics by Brecht)
Hey, punk, with that bottle in your hand
What makes you so sad?
Could life really be that bad?
Sure, you've got your reasons
But your alibis are lies
The story is an old one
It's been told a million times
You were glad to be alive
On life's journey
You were excited
But you were not in a hurry
For years, you walked up and down each road
You had to try them all
Looking for your place, I guess
Where you could rest and feel at home
Now, tired of walking
You've started to run
Passing everything by
But at least you're having fun
Good karma, bad karma
You'll get what you deserve
There is good and evil
You've got a lot to learn
There is love, there is hate
You can't do as you please
Wash your face, take a bath
Your aura's still filthy
In someone's bathroom, turning blue, puking green
You're senile, senile at seventeen
Scars on your brain from drinking beer and smoking weed
Another acid tab, another shot of speed