Well I haven't been the same since the garden died
And I don't wanna raise the little ones inside
He said your bag was at the beach
Turned out the prick lied
So I raised a petition
And turned to the side
And said "oh, oh, oh, over the edge, James,"
"Drive, drive, drive, we're committing suicide,"
Well I don't wanna be another Ray Davies
Throwing white curses at white ladies
As soft pink babies flap their limbs
(?)
So there's me, sitting up on the fence all clinical
How are these bastards so cynical?
And I don't even know
If these seeds are gonna grow
I just kinda threw them in a pile
Sort of vaguely in a row
So go, go, go over the edge, James
Drive, drive, drive, we're committing suicide
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
