I hear voices, people think I'm crazy
They can talk but
Up to no good, incarcerated Crescentwood
Pushing insane, thinking I was
All hands on deck, throw your guns in the air
Let’s
It’s a small world after all
Turns out that we both
Every time my parents were gone
They'd hire this babysitter named
I got a car and it doesn’t drive
All over town
but
Last night well I couldn’t sleep
When I think of you,
Wait up, put me in a photograph
Tear it up, watching
So long, we'll take the road less traveled
We'll leave everything
Every day I used to write a song for you
Even
One thousand bracelets, no style
This damn Ayn Rand book and
When they come for us in uniforms
To burn the treehouse
From the underground came a brand new sound
But I guess