I'm feeling rough, I'm feeling raw, I'm in the prime of my life
Let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives
I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin and [bad word] with the stars
You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars

This is our decision to live fast and die young
We've got the vision, now let's have some fun!
Yeah it's overwhelming, but what else can we do?
Get jobs in offices and wake up for the [bad word] 

Forget about our mothers and our friends
We were fated to pretend

I'll miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms
I'll miss [bad word] of my mother and the weight of the world
I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home
Yeah, I'll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone

But there is really nothing, nothing we can do
Love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew
The models will have children, we'll get a divorce
We'll find some more models, everything [bad word] its course

We'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end
We were fated to pretend

Yeah, yeah, yeah