Throwaways

No, these streets don't feel like love

They're not hungry or wild enough

It's a dead-end town for trash like us

But I've got a full tank and a couple bucks

I mean I never got nothing and I never want much

But man, we've gotta get out

No these streets ain't got no guts

They're like sad sex with clumsy tongues

It's a battlefield for restless punks

And the cops are jocks and all that junk

We just wanna read our books and turn our stereos up

Man, we've gotta get out

There's a light on those filthy streets

Where the throwaways get weird and free

Are you in with me? Does it cut you enough

There's a time to bleed, and a time just to fucking run