Don't get me wrong,
I had a good time with you and you friends, they are so nice.
We rode our bikes up north, it turned to ice,
and I saw something in the road.
Don't get me wrong,
I had a good time with you and your friends they are so wise.
Don't get me wrong,
I had a good time with you and your friends, they are so kind.

(The streets were paved with my blood.
The cars were fueled with you guts.
I started disappearing.
You asked how I was feeling.)

I let my stomach settle.
I traded skin for metal.
I wanted to be a rebel, but this city is too cold.
When they come, you'll know.
You'll be screaming for your mother.
But remember baby, you're a martyr.
Or did I mean a monster?

This is happening.
You can't stop it stop it.
This is happening.
We get nervous-nervous.
We get nervous.

Don't get me wrong,
I am ready to say goodbye to my teen angst today.
And don't get me wrong,
I took note of your shelf - the books all about transcending death.
Don't get me wrong,
I am ready to say goodbye to my wallet today.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm enjoying my life, it's just that I'd rather not be alive.

(We watched it from our window.
The place in the sky where a hole burned.
Fifteen minutes without interruption.
I reclaimed my seduction.)

I was taken hostage by a community of convicts.
They shave the hair from their bodies.
Their faces are slowly rotting.
Employees who shoplift.
Sacrilegious monks and prophets.
I'm chilling with abortion doctors, bastard children, and their mothers.

This is happening.
You can't stop it stop it.
This is happening.
We get nervous-nervous.

I shit my trousers.
I made friends with cowards.
I said, "Baby, it ain't our problem..."
We dreamed our band would make it.
No one appreciates it.
But they'll all love our music when we're dead.

Don't get me wrong,
I had a good time with you and your friends, they are so nice.