Nineteen years old You better not listen to yourself now anymore You better not trust anybody else now Your comment is coming, doesn't make any sense anymore You get your transmissions at your front door And then you get old
Mission control Mission control
You're going to forget all about your killer rest me soul You gotta get by on what they think that you can think of If you thought that you would do it somehow by yourself But when you shouldn't of been listening to everybody else You come and go