Deffinately,   this is the wrong place to be,   There's blood on the futon,   And there's a kid drinkin' fire.   Goin' down to the sea,    They got people to meet,    shakin' hands with themselves,   lookin' out for themselves,      When they ask you for credit,    give them a branch.   When they want u to get it,    chew on the grass.   I know, i know,    cos' they told me to tell you,   There's nothing to tell you.   There's nothing to sell you.      In the afternoon,   ridin' the escape goat,   burning equipment,   decomposing.   Cool off your jets,   Take off your sweats,    i got a funny feeling,   they got plastic in the after life.      When they want you to cry,    leap into the sky.   When they suck your mind,    like a pigeon you'll fly.   I know, i know   it's the postive people   runnin' from their time   lookin' for some feeling