Texty:
Pinhead Gunpowder Shoot The Moon

Well, she's kind of like an artist Sittin' on the floor She never finishes, she abandons Never shows a soul And she's kind of like a movie Everyone rushes

I was falling through the cracks, now I'm piling up bricks I was clutching for straws, now I'm gonna take the fifth I'm gonna say nothing but my name

I was sitting with a bloody head Outside of X In my proud boy dumbness At the Berkeley Square Half drunk, half sexed, Half conscious Lenny

I'm not seventeen And going on nowhere fast A decade lost in the East Bay fog Birthday cards thrown in the trash Last years' calendar On the wall, collecting

I was falling through the cracks, now I'm piling up bricks I was clutching for straws, now I'm gonna take the fifth I'm gonna say nothing but my name

I was sitting with a bloody head Outside of X At the Berkeley Square In my proud boy dumbness Half drunk, half sexed, Half conscious Lenny had said, "

What happened to our dumb plans? Did we lose them once again? Did we change? Did we win? I don't think so Was it ever a good idea? Was it really necessary