New tongues for grass and a half a year's past for brats who sing
New songs for friends who dirty their pants with mud in my hands
Of course you want me
Of course you want me
Of course you want me to feel the way you do
I was born to die my friends
and we are the closest to the end
of our lives and your cryptic face is filling me with pain
Ooh I hate you
Ooh I hate you
My life's alright without you