We were four and who could ever ask for more    your picture on the cover of a magazine    we just had to keep our noses clean    now we're three and things are    not exactly what they used to be    champagne and drugs makes you wanna live    until you're hiv posetive       we had the image, we had the sound    but our plane crashed to the ground...    and the drummer was never found    we were the band of the century    meanest teen machines    we were the band of the cen tury    floating in the sea       now we are two, with alot of reds, blues, green    there never was a day he was clean    he never woke from his dream    now we are one, but not for long    'cause a fan gave me a gun    he never realized what he had done    I might as well live on.