They used to think it was so cute   When she said "Dyer Maker"   All the boys knew it was a joke about Jamaica   She'd always find a ride back home from the bar      She used to feel so stupid   When they'd talk about the music   Born into every single tune   They used to hum against her lips   With their hands against her hips   They used to kiss in the car      Dancing days, houses of the holy   Hot-shot in the city in the middle of the prairie   Floating with the boys, with all her charms   At first the laugh, then the eyes   Then the touch-em-on-the-arm's   And the drinks, they'd never seem to cost money   And Saturday night was a runway   That extended into Sunday   And sometimes Monday      Back then it was beautiful   The boys were sweet and musical   The laser lights looked mystical   Messed up stuff felt magical   Girls didn't seem so difficult   Boys didn't seem so typical   It was warm and white and wonderful   We were all invincible      Tired eyes, trampled on her foot   Dazed and confused   C-C-C-C-Cocaine blues   She hasn't got any eye contact tonight      The boys are getting younger   And the bands are getting louder   And the new girls are coming up   Like some light on open flowers   She's pretty sure that that's where their power is      Back then it was unified   The punks, the skins, the greaser guys   Then one summer, two kids died   And one of them was crucified   Now it's so competitive   The sleeplessness and sedatives   I know it sounds repetitive   Every show can't be a (?)      We were kids in the crowd   Now we're dogs in this war   We were (?) with new wings   Now we're bugs in the jar   We were hot, soft and pure   Now we're scratched up in scars   We were counting cards   Now we eat in our cars   The boys in the band   They know they'll never be stars      Back then they were quite convinced   Firing and (?)   The front row girls were posturing   We were all imagining   And man, we had some massive nights   Some (?), some bloody fights   Back before those two kids died