L7

lucid, i was swimmer

low slouch on the corner on Saturday morning

when all the punk rockers came out laid by the stoplight

and were arrogant

livin' like the hard soles, sleeveless denim, spiked hair scripture

wouldn't miss you except for that intangible

so all the drug abusers, much to their amusement

take a good look at me

a good look at me and sing

their songs

all wrong

their rhymes

defined

a generation runnin' away

hanger by the bus stop, skater 'cross the weekend

dealer standin' everywhere a good dealer should

i was only marble like the bench before the library

city wide to ocean size

like i could see how i could be misunderstood

and the city was a mess, it wasn't home

it wasn't anything but brutal

brick by brick laid before my sleepless doorway

i was still a caught mouse even though i beat the cheese maze

still an open end discussion with St. Brodie on the crosstown

his songs

all wrong

his rhymes

defined

a generation livin' to die

get rocked baby, stay rocked

rules everyone can live with

on the slow ride home from the show

when you wish you could remember what you said

with your head kicked back like amps kick in

clambaked little white two door, found out the headlight's out

console hold the baggie, not hide the baggie from the law dog

still i know we owe percussion a thank you note and our appreciation

for the sweet baby crash and the boom bippity a bap bap bap

and the lagers must take the rap for the one night stands gone apocalyptic

for the "why the face?"s and the Holy Fathers

before you go try it again

i remember life like that, just mattresses on the floor

legal pads filled with scribblings of a pothead past his consciousness

dyed hair upon the pillow, waves come in outside the window

my buzz wearin' off and the stereo on