Someone told us that they'd heard we were just old punks
What they said and spread was freebased, mainlined junk
Ha!, in plaid like mid-summer '91
Shoe gazer stare all affect no fun
Miracles of nature tend to block the drain
Oracle of sciences drives the vein
Good papa, I knew you wouldn't miss the kill
Or the chance to melt the faces of the children
It's tiring, to be this courteous
To the don't knows, sacred, profane, gratis
He said, hunger it's a strange silence
Despite what the tin-foil hat crowds says