The Lost Boys of Suburbia

Another day, all work no play makes jack a fuckin mess

Don’t the working week just make ya sick

Down the stairs flip the switch and listen for the hum

So begins another lost weekend

Three bands, one mic

Five bucks a head

You know the address

Ah Baker Street boys shock and destroy

Lined up around the block

Damned weirdos on parade

Ah out on the lawn screaming til dawn

There goes the neighborhood

Lost boys of suburbia

These are the days bleeding sweat on filthy concrete floors

Lost in orchestrated violence

I’m losing my mind, but don’t we all go a little mad sometimes

When the music hits a fevered pitch

Basement breakdown

things are moving too slow

Get on with the show

Flashlights sirens cops at the door

The final encore…