All American Tragedy

(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)

Let me set the scene, quiet as can be
She was just a pretty little face in the bleachers
Dying to be free, and he was 17
Sharing cigarettes and hiding smoke from the teachers

Maybe she wanted a little taste of the wild side
He was the getaway ride outta town
And maybe he wanted a little tame to the wildfire
But you know they're never gonna slow down now

She's into bad guys driving the fast cars
Making her dad cry, kissing the guitar player in a pop-punk local indie band
Undressing in the back seat of his mom's minivan
He was a good kid, son of a pastor
A little bit unhinged, a perfect disaster
And they won't be the first, no, they're not the last to be
Just another classic all-American tragedy

(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)

Sneaking out her room, quarter after two
Planning the tattoos they'll keep from their parents
He gets her into shows, she wants to see the road
Trading in a future for her name in his lyrics
They all say, "Oh my God, they might be too far gone"
Oh, they're off of the deep end, and mom isn't sleeping
'Cause she knows that no one could get them to stop

She's into bad guys driving the fast cars
Making her dad cry, kissing the guitar player in a pop-punk local indie band
Undressing in the back seat of his mom's minivan
He was a good kid, son of a pastor
A little bit unhinged, a perfect disaster
And they won't be the first, no, they're not the last to be
Just another classic all-American tragedy

(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)

She's into bad guys driving the fast cars
Making her dad cry, kissing the guitar player in a pop-punk local indie band
Undressing in the back seat of his mom's minivan
He was a good kid, son of a pastor
A little bit unhinged, a perfect disaster
And they won't be the first, no, they're not the last to be
Just another classic all-American tragedy

(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh)