Replacements - Bastards Of Young Lyrics
God, what a mess, on the ladder of successWhere you take one step and miss the whole first rungDreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilledIt beats pickin cotton and waitin to be forgottenWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngThe daughters and the sonsClean your baby womb, trash that baby boomElvis in the ground, therell aint no beer tonightIncome tax deduction, what a hell of a functionIt beats pickin cotton and waitin to be forgottenWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngThe daughters and the sonsUnwillingness to claim us, ya got no word (war? ) to name usThe ones who love us best are the ones well lay to restAnd visit their graves on holidays at bestThe ones who love us least are the ones well die to pleaseIf its any consolation, I dont begin to understand themWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngWe are the sons of no one, bastards of youngThe daughters and the sonsYoung...take it, its yours...
