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Lyrics
Naive Bree, you're a baby inside of your grown-up ride.
Nicotine was your meal for the day but you're "livin' free".
You need some love, but mom and dad are so far away.
You packed it up; now you get comfy on the concrete -
Naive Bree...
On your spree, the balloons that you found are not carnival.
You found a scene, now a way to escape seems impossible.
Oh I know you were bored with the Midwestern world,
And the holes in your face are the statement you make.
So your notebook is full and your poems are cool,
But a backpack just ain't a home.
Naive Bree...
Sweet 16 likes girls and guys and the inbetween.
At least for how; while you stretch on your quest for identity.
The cure to your pain comes straight off the menu of spare change
You broke the mold; but the hills get cold
And your thoughts are strange.
Naive Bree has a long lost love in L.A.;
Says "I'll find myself there one day,
when I'm seeing a little more straight."
I just hope it's not too late.
Naive Bree, if you're listining I hope that you're hearing me.
You play the fool with your combat boots and you're attitude.
Oh, oh, oh you're so alone...
Naive Bree.
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