The sun came up with no conclusions
Flowers sleeping in their beds
The city cemetery's humming
I'm wide awake, it's morning

I have my [bad word]  I have my women
They keep away my loneliness
My parents, they have their religions
But sleep in seperate houses

I read the body count out of the paper
And now it's written all over my face
No one ever plans to sleep out in the gutter
Sometimes that's just the [bad word] place

So I'm drinking, breathing, writing, singing
Every day I'm on the clock
My mind races with all my longings
But can't keep up with what I got

I hope I don't sound too ungratefull
Well, history gave modern man
telephone to talk to strangers
Machine guns and a camera lens

So when you're asked to fight a war that's over nothing
It's best to join the side that's going to win
No one's sure how all of this got started
But we're going to make them [bad word] certain how it's gonna end
(Oh yeah we will, oh yeah, we will!)

I could have been a famous singer
If I had someone else's voice
But failure's always sounded better
Let's [bad word] it up boys, make some noise!