Untitled Lyrics & Chords By The Drugs

Fit. Happy. Self-destructive. Natural growth, both mental and physical, retarded by weekly drinking binges designed to impress a peer group of equal mental simplicity. Surf brand clothing, as if sponsored, despite living 200 kilometres from a beach. Guitar rock rules. Techno sucks. Too young to realise that Radiohead are just Genesis with a distortion pedal. Drives recklessly. Hates poofters but loves watching men in tight shorts play footy. Ten of mate? No wankers grow. Fair dinkum, scored on the weekend. You know, the chick from Franklin's got some stinkfinger. Yeah. Heat's mad yeah? Young, stupid and as productive as a pig reduced to bacon, garnished with glazed cherries fashioned into a smiley face to look appetising to a baby brother with a dickhead for a role model and a future as bleak as that of the pig.