Hold your own jacket, please
I'm not in the mood
Millions of trains under the ground
This city was a blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
Bored again watching the rats
Eat all your food, at least you'll be used to
The place you'll be soon
This city was a blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
Do you know how obvious you are?
You were born in New Hampshire but you say you're from the O.C.
Brooklyn is a death bed for clones of the same kids
Stuck in a party that was lame to begin with
Yeah, yeah, lame to begin with
At least you'll be used to
The place you'll be
This city was a blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You will all die