Middle Children

I watched the young girl on the tube

Just fixing up her make-up

And I'm runbbing on my baggy eyes

Just trying har to wake up

She must not have had a mirror

'casue on her phone she takes a picture of herself

Just to see if her make-up's straight

I watched the young boy on the street

There in a pack all hoarding

His body language speaking volumes of his endless yearning

And I know it's driving him crazy

How much he wants that Mercedes

As they all look on in fear

'cause they don't know what he will do next

And I know that this is how it is

But I can't reconcile myself with how i live

And they say that it's not where you're from

But where you're at

So, why do I wanna go

Why do I wanna go back

Advertising has us chasing bars and clothes

Working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need

We're the middle children of history, man

No purpose nor place

We have no grat war, no great depression

Our great depression, is our lives

And I know that this is how it is

But i can't reconcile myself with how i live

And they say that it's not where you're from

But where you're at

So, why do I wanna go

Why do I wanna go back

(back, bck,back,back...)