sinful youth in overdrive   comatose ,but still alive   ugly rumours,wind-borne tell   of pissings in the wishing well   how we lost our way back there   surfin’ high on pissed off glares   we rode rings around our fears   and couldn’t have asked for more      endless summers in teenage lust   like rhinoceros on angel-dust   where nothing’s ever happening   suburbia-mon amour   there was no target we could miss   cruising cool on prejudice   how could we’ve avoided this?   wise men ponder still...      with the picks off of life’s upper shelf   the only place I found myself was    poised for flight in a mensroom stall   drenched in alcohol      and when sun she came peeking through   there wasn’t much more to do   cut our wrists on guilded sins   and closed the door back in      not good,not nice,   but we saw through all of their lies   not mean,not scared   but there      sinful and wind-borne