And the bricks get laid
And they get torn up And laid again
But the bricks always get torn up again
And your friends won’t wait
So don’t believe that shit
When they say they’ll wait
Cause trust me; your friends will not wait for you
Then you’ll be stoned in some park
Just nodding your head and pinching your arms
When a girl walks along
She’s humming your song
With your t-shirt on That’s when you’re done
Oh, that’s when you’re done
There’s a cotton crush
In the southern states
But back up here, man
We’ve got so much thread and space
To waste, waste, waste
And there’s a microphone
Picking every word up And it shuts itself off
When it’s sure that it’s heard enough
The quiet can scrape
All the calm from your bones
But maybe it should
Maybe we need to be hollowed
To get up and grow
And stop fucking around
To kick off our braces and start straightening out
Let’s sift through the static
To find a simpler sound
Than the shit that’s clouding our heads now
And I will remember that summer
As the summer I was taking steroids
Because you like a man with muscles
And I like you