Story Behind the Song
This is a song about the area I've grown up in (and still frequent), where affluence clashes with stupidity and white-trash poverty, where the rich and the poor both come to be irate and self-centered bastards.
Thanks to Babyland and Snog for inspiration.
Lyrics
Beneath the suburbanite wasteland of golf shoes and indifference
Is the world of adolescent alcoholism
Full-time stoners, roller, users, and losers,
Wasting away, complaining, demanding entertainment
Boredom is an excuse for society's abuse
Of everything from nasal spray to gasoline fumes
Every child, a victim, with a 40 in his hand
"Save me from the good life" is the popular demand
Maybe it's time for you to grow up
You've done plenty of whining and I'm sure I've had enough
All the constant bitching about what you don't think is fair
Has lead me to the firm belief that I don't really care
So you can't withstand the pain of your sports cars and new houses
Your teenage years have left you just a shell of a true parasite
You hate "the pigs" and "the man" for still "keeping you down"
For slowly spreading ignorance, hatred, and intolerance around
Pity for you, my friend, and your 14 pairs of new shoes
(In a hell like this, you've got nowhere to wear 'em to)
Style before substance, an angry little automaton
Bitter about the moment when you'll finally learn what's going on
Vat-bred suburban housing-developed malignancies,
Burning down all common sense with the greatest of ease
Not even the decency to pretend to say 'please'
We prefer the designer Tommy Hilfiger lack of dignity
"If I can't smoke it, drink it, or fuck it,
What good is it to me, anyway?"
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