C’mon we’re young, we’re young Yet we’ll be dead as soon C’mon we came, we came From our mother’s womb to swoon
Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyants Adopting this young spirit of sin To make the most, before we turn to ghost Before, old friend, life’s just a means to an end To make the most, before we turn to ghost
Swig the bottle, bottle Slap the face of Aristotle Race me, Race me, Race me, Race me In yer fourth hand jalopy
Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyants Adopting this young spirit of sin To make the most, before we turn to ghost Before, old friend, life’s just a means to an end To make the most, before we turn to ghost
My mother, she said, “you don’t delve in taboo”. But mother, my moribund will come When I’m through with taboo
Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyants Adopting this young spirit of sin To make the most, before we turn to ghost Before, old friend, life’s just a means to an end To make the most, before we turn to ghost
That sink and pull in the guts That’s this foolhardy flux