Indie boys are neurotic
Makes my eyes bleed
Tight black pants exotic
Some loving is what I need
But hey, I'm startin' to feel okay
Lucky number nine, hooray
Sepia on the staircase
Mirror in the back of my brain
Makes these hard pants feel great
I used to like to complain
Bloody Mary, Mother of God
Grandpas on the hobby horse again
Tampin', broken pants chaffing
I'm running out of ethnic friends