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lyrics

An island home
a reputation
a violent hole
a love sick nation
I'm tired of all these resolutions
the time has come for revolution
your books they tell a different story
of burned out high school teenage glory
but you're all, son
you're all, son

A boy who dies of television
then buys the rights to make revisions
a touch, a kiss, a lifted dress
your life becomes just one long mess yeah
and when you recognise there ain't no glory
you live your angsty teenage stories
but they're all sung
they're all sung

credits

from These are not the dreams of which we spoke, released November 23, 2012

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