Lyrics UR

Burn the books they've got too many names and psychoses
All this incriminating evidence would surely haunt me
If someone broke into my house

Suits in the living room
Do you realize guys I was born in 1974
We've got someone here to explain your publishing
We know how much you love to be in front of audiences

Hopeful you are
Schoolbound you are
Naive you are
Driven you are

Take a trip to New York with your guardian
And your fake identification
When they said Is there something anything