Lyrics
Warm sun bakes my face
Dreams of outer space
I hit a mailbox with my bike
I don't like this place
But I don't like to hate
Not even smallpox or the Third Reich
I've tucked away my dreams
Stuck beneath the green
Packin' words into my pipe
All these in betweens
Hopeless but serene
Maybe someday it'll be alright
People pass me by
But I don't bat an eye
Stuck inside of my own head
A little too proud to cry
I think I wanna be alive
But feelin' sometimes like I'm better off dead