Oh, the babies we could make
Out in parking lots
Of young punks jealous of U.
S. A. is rotting in the air between our
Screams and bloody microphone screens

Why do you keep your
Hands in the pockets
Of all of your ex lover's jeans?
I saw you smoking
Outside the free clinic
Cul-de-sacks of shit and rings

What's that? I dunno
Won't be done until your lips go numb

Making love to the hooker
Under the moonlight
Kicking the canes
From the elderly's hands
You were road raging
With the student drivers
And draining brains
From a braided head


Lyrics submitted by BleedorBreathe

Stranger Tongues song meanings
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