Did I listen to [punk rock] because I was miserable?
Or was I miserable because I listened to [punk rock]?
Hey, where did it go?
Everything we fought for, and everything it meant.
Maybe we were just naive, but I still believe
There are only a few things that really belong to me:
Who I am, who I was, who I wanna be...
I never had the things in life that make a man feel strong.
Only the posession of a passion for a song...
Don't ever put your faith in me, I'll only let ya down.
Don't pick me up when I'm stumbling, just leave me on the ground.
And right or wrong, I'll stick by the things I say.
And I couldn't give a shit if ya go or if ya stay...
I've been down for the count but I always come back for more.
I just pick myself up off the floor.
I've been marked by the bruises of a bullet that never leaves me dead.
So I can suffer the pain over again...
I have the will to survive, I cheat if I can't win.
If someone locks me out, I kick my way back in.
An' if I get aggression, I give it to them 2x back.
Every day is just the same, with hate and war on my back...
I got first-class taste in a second-class town...
And ya know, it just may be me
But the parking lot with all those creeps
Keeps me convincing myself I'm completely sane.
And with sleep overrated, and my ideals outdated
I know that I wouldn't want it any other way...
Or will we just be forgotten?
I don't want to be forgotten.
I'm so scared of being forgotten.
That's my problem- I'm so scared...
A few descriptions of myself that I've heard that gave me a chuckle: "Brandi's not a chick, she's like a dude with long hair", "Definately an asshole", "The best person on the face of the planet", and "Buddha of the Hanover scene."