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once when I was young and I`d think about what there is to think about, like
issues facing youths of the day...I had those girly mags, they were stashed
away underneath my pillowcase, a hiding place I thought was safe...until the
day my mom went into my room with the vaccuum and the broom while I was away
at school...when I got home shit hit the fan, is this any way to become a
man?, I guess there`s a price to pay for preteen curiousity
well what do you want this to be?
and what do you want from me?
all you want to do girl is go, go, go
just simmer down
as the years rolled by we moved away from that grand old country place and
bought a cityside estate...it was a cul-de-sac, kids were all around, living
in a playground, life was never good - it was great...and we would kick the
can almost every night, curfew never on our minds, airtight little band of

friends...a girl lived across the way who never gave us the time of day, but
that`s ok cause we knew a way to get our revenge
all you people going out and going around, different bars in different towns,
trying to take somebody home...a two drink minimum at least for conversation
that`s less than intellectually stimulating, tell me is it worth what you pay?
friendly scene backstage and at the show, beers and jokes and folks we know is
more or less what it`s all about...the compliments rain down and they hit
the ground landing with a muffled sound, we`re more interested in hanging
out...and then a bra it flew across the room landing with a sonic boom, a
groupie, or at least a wannabe...we said we want no part cause special girls
have already captured our hearts, so replace your top, before you start just
stop