My poor generation,
we're on for the ride,
an ocean of choices,
pulled out on the tide.
We're handed a beach ball,
and told to pick a side.
Drowned in information.
My poor generation.
My poor generation
don't know what it means,
the shock of the mountain
compared to magazines.
Is it timeless and holy,
or just a hill of beans?
Lost in Union Station.
My poor generation.
Maybe we're just looking in a fun house
mirror and lovin' our reflection.
Maybe corporate raiders got too greedy in the 80's
and bought up all the direction.
Wooo..ooo...ooo...ooo...ooo.
(guitar solo)
My poor generation
airborn with nothin' to land on.
Baffled by bullshit,
grounded with nothin' to stand on.
Poor little fat cats,
nothin' anyone planned on.
Unique in all creation.
My poor generation.
Woah...
My poor generation.
Woah......
My poor generation.
