I found a picture of my mother in her bell-bottom jeans.
flowers in her hair, two fingers up for peace.
In that Polaroid she smiled, a grown up baby boomer
Maybe momma walked down the wild side, walking on the moon
What will they say about us
I’ve heard stories about my grandpa
child of the great depression
how growing up broke creates and deep and dark impression
He sits in a rocker, down at the veterans home
even when I got to visit he still rocking all alone
What will they say about us
 [bad word] 
They call us generation lost or
generation greed or they connect the generation
to a plasma screen or a generation why enough is not enough
Or maybe they’ll call us Generation Love
Generation love

We are children of divorce
Victims of dysfunction
We spell check of coarse
And gps the proper junction
We got it pretty good
Shifting all the blame
But I think I hear an old song
Calling my new name
Generation love
 [bad word] 

When they open up our time capsule 
hundred years from now 
Maybe they will look inside 
And see we figured out 
How to live with less 
And give ourselves away 

Just maybe they'll call us, 
Just maybe they'll call us 
Generation love, yeah yeah yeah 

We are a brand new generation of love 
We are a brand new generation of love, oh