fighting with gloves now we're the ones a hundred times fuckeder hitting above the belt now we're the ones a hundred times fuckeder citing the facts now
It's so easy to defend the status quo With everyone so cool and cynical But when you see the end don't justify the means It's just that 180 degrees The
The first time I saw the descendents, they were the fastest band I'd ever seen No one in the crowd really cared for them, we were waiting for the ally
Staying home is not rally an option For alcoholics living in Manhattan Have you seen the size of John Bush's apartment? It's a bit smaller than a
I'm not insane, I'm not bummed out I got no one to blame, nothing to change I got no evil to fight One thing's for sure, I'm all outta angst Society don
And even if it's easy to be free What's your definition of freedom? And who the fuck are you, anyway? Who the fuck are they? Who the fuck am I to say
Billy Cobin lost it all We knew he would eventually Some wonder why he took the fall Others just ask who the hell is he And why should we care for him
It's okay, allow yourself a little hate Hatred is not so bad when directed at injustice You can turn the other cheek Just don't turn the other way Enemy
You are a hippie You smell like skunk I'm your arch-enemy A middle class punk Get out Get a life Get a job Everyone's smoking grass Everyone is an ass
Hello, welcome to our disc Turn it up and get your neighbors pissed Or turn it down, it don't matter to me Take two placebos and call me lame Can't
I can't believe we won the war What's it good for? We won't be anymore We'll all turn to steel We'll be in hell Talking to our friends Nothing, nothing
I'm not here to entertain you I'm here to meet my friend the Russian The Irish, the German, the Columbian I don't care how bad I fuck up I care about
[CD lyrics:] Hello, welcome to our CD Can you hear the blatant similarity? To Linoleum and Shadows of Defeat [Vinyl lyrics:] Hello, welcome to our
[Originally by Rancid] your selling sexism your selling racism your selling anything you get your fucking hands on an understanding, you got a plan
[Rancid cover song] your selling sexism your selling racism your selling anything you get your fucking hands on an understanding, you got a plan in a
Birds sing, "There's not a cloud in the sky August 8th is a beautiful day" I see a bunch of hippies crying "Yeah, August 8th is a beautiful day" Like
[first joke] - Hey Hefe - What? - What do you call a guy who hangs out with musicians? - Uh... you? [second joke] - Hey Fat Mike, what's a Jewish
Too many words on the the tip of my tongue and I can never figure out When to speak when to shout when to shut up When to knock myself out I need a
