Bastards of Young

Sitting here in the knitted hat she made for me
It used to fit well
It used to be clean

Passing time like it’s a revisionist dream
in a history book
One that you’d never read

You reach for your cigarettes, start heading out the door
waiting for the compliment, that keeps you ‘round for more

Hold a dream that no longer exists
In your pocket it lies
Getting caught up in lint

Tell a close friend a horrible truth
kill them inside
Then say it’s only a lie


Your knitted hat unravels fast and falls upon the floor
It might as well be broken glass it’s left a mess before

Wander wander little lamb
To the slaughterhouse of the poor
Wander wander little lamb
To the slaughterhouse of the poor


Sit alone with your ill-fitting thoughts
In your ill-fitting clothes 
In your ill-fitting home

See the snow stack up high on the ledge
You can’t see past it
But you know where it goes

Knitted Hat

Transmissions From The Satellite Heart

She Don't Use Jelly

Star

Feed the Tree

Kinda Kinks

Nothin' In the World Can Stop Me Worryin' 'Bout That Girl

Hello

Beneath the Eyrie

On Graveyard Hill

She Don't Use Jelly

Flaming Lips