Got millions of broken necks,
From looking up to you.
So get your damn soapbox standing, high horse prancing,
Ass down here with the truth.
So don't let those admirers,
Try and fit your shoes.
Cause then they will then see, one size that fits all feet,
And then they will walk all over you.
When only the good die young.
Ain't it ironic I age so well.
When only the good die young.
Ain't it ironic that I age so well.
To be the last man standing,
At the kissing booth.
That really don't mean a thing when they're for free,
And don't taste like they should.
So after you're done drowning,
In a glass that is half full.
The pessimists all join together and discuss,
How you never could do it like they could.
When only the good die young.
Ain't it ironic I age so well.
When only the good die young.
Ain't it ironic that I age so well.
Cause, you, and me, are a kitschy parody of sincerity,
Apparently.
Truth is heat, we're burning underneath our seats.
Burning me for not standing.
I learn to love myself.
I learn to love myself,
My self-abandonment.
When only the good die young.
Ain't it ironic I age so well.
When only the good die young.
Ain't it ironic that I age so well.
Cause, you, and me, are a kitschy parody of sincerity,
Apparently.
Truth is heat, we're burning underneath our seats.
Burning me for not standing.
Stand up!