Albert Camus

Running around this run-down, one-horse town
One of these days, they're gonna crucify me
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable it is to be young, dumb and have lots of money
We will sit upon this grassy knoll
Holding hands and stroking handguns, with pristine souls
And even my own mother will tell you I am an asshole
But underneath it all, there is an apathetic heart of gold
So who will be saved, from the least to the greatest men?
Because even Honest Abe sold posion milk to schoolchildren

The blood drive came to Glen Rock High in a white bus with red letters on the side
And a long shiny needle they brought to suck me dry like missionary misquitoes in the sky
Now you're doing time for stealing candy from a babe
Because all the kids in Ridgewood have got cell phones these days and if you wear a mask
They can still read your license plate and a wireless line is a terrible thing to waste
Because the more we think, the less it all makes sense, tonight we will drink to our general indifference
Lamb of God, we think nothing of ourselves at all
So, Death, be not proud because we don't give a fuck about nothing and we only want what we are not allowed