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Curb Feelers
Every day starts off the same
I wake up looking for my brain
Hey
It’s not at the beach, it’s not in my bed
The panic sets in that I might be dead
Oh
Someone call 911
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Will I pass out in the bathroom stall?
Hey
I write the songs that no one sings
You got no idea how much pressure that brings
Oh
Someone call LA Times
Rebel becomes routine
And now you’re dying like the punk scene
So who’s the lucky one tonight?
Don’t know what I want but I know what I like
Hey
Someone call 911
Rebel becomes routine
And now you’re dying like the punk scene
One, two, three, four
Hey
Someone call 911
Rebel becomes routine
And now you’re dying like the punk scene
And now you’re dying like the punk scene