lyrics
Oh we, Lost Boys,
no land, no home.
Overeducated and over prepared.
Underpaid and under siege.
White, blue or collarless,
equally abused and equally fucked.
Till the day Webster's fails us,
leaving nothing but rage in its wake
and a desire to leave home, and land, and love
striving to find something more.
And we'll fly looking for greener pastures,
to foreign, distant lands
to be greeted by inverted skies
covered in yellow stars
Somehow different yet still the fucking same,
setting ourselves to become
emigrant sons of immigrant moms.
And we'll fly looking for greener pastures
to foreign, distant lands
to be greeted by inverted skies
covered in fucking dirty yellow stars
credits
license