High School Reminds Me Of Birth Control


Now let’s be honest
You really can’t stand
If you really don’t know how to dance
And I know you can’t feel it
And the tests don’t show it
But God don’t really give a shit, man
You hit like a girl, they said
Girls, can we clap
Our hands for the
Boys with the flowers in their hands?
The ones who lay you back in the sand and
Act like they’re your biggest fans?
And the ones with the tattoos
On the side if the road who didn’t fit in
With the high school band
And got the sand in their shoes from
Rescuing you from
The beach house rooftop
Yeah, the ocean got rough
Now boys, do you like
The girls in the skirts
Hiked up to their waists?
Yeah, don’t you believe in fate?
Don’t lie, I know you like
The boys in the band
With their bandanas and the dress-up capes
You’re stupid to think
Your parents are the ones to hate
Hate
Teacher’s really after me
Me
So tell me
Are you willing to be a misfit and
Put up with
A little shit
Cuz I put with a lot of it
For me and for him and for you

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