Marlboro Reds we bought from
Change we'd find behind stained
And dusty couch cushions,
We'd hike it back from the Mobil
Up the stairs to our cave
Cut into a mid-century apartment building,
Plug in the Fender jazz bass,
Turn on the Peavey amp,
Throw in Lou and Bowie, Kurt and Frank,
Re-string the black Strat,
Tune forever while everyone else
Just kept on fucking around,
Smoke, smoke, smoke,
Bakesale, check out Bakesale,
No, you gotta check out the album before that,
Yeah, I'd totally fuck Kim Deal,
She's nothing without Black, though,
Do you even know what you're saying,
Puff, puff, puff, cough, laugh,
Fuck you, man, turn it up,
We were drifters, no-namers, addicts,
Kids trying on different masks,
Reinventing or hiding or both,
Talking like experts about books we never read
And quoting somebody's cool big brother,
Laughing at words like "alternative" and "grunge"
While wearing flannel with our Cons,
Trying to win the game of not giving a shit
While totally giving a shit,
Unaware that we were dreaming the whole time,
And completely oblivious to the self-loathing
Gaining on us like the feedback we loved so much
