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Lyrics

I'm feeling rough, I'm feeling raw
I'm in the prime of my life
Let's make some music, make some money
Find some models for wives
I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin
And fuck with the stars
You man, the island and the cocaine
And the elegant cars

This is our decision, to live fast and die young
We've got the vision
Now let's have some fun!
Yeah, it's overwhelming, but what else can we do?
Get jobs in offices?
And wake up for the morning commute?

Lyrics continue below...

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Forget about our mothers and our friends

We're fated to pretend
To pretend
We're fated to pretend
To pretend

I'll miss the playgrounds and the animals
And digging up worms
I'll miss the comfort of my mother
And the weight of the world
I'll miss my sister, miss my father
Miss my dog and my home
Yeah, I'll miss the boredem and the freedom
And the time spent alone

But there's really nothing, nothing we can do
Love must be forgotten
Life can always start up anew!
The models will have children, we'll get a divorce
We'll find some more models
Everything must run its course!

We'll choke on our vomit, and that will be the end

We were fated to pretend
To pretend
We're fated to pretend
To pretend

I said, yeah, yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Yeah, yeah, yeah!

Writer(s): Ben Goldwasser, Andrew Vanwyngarden

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