Ghost in the Willow - Bastards of Young

God, what a mess, on the ladder of success
Where you take one step and miss the whole first rung
Dreams unfulfilled, graduate unskilled
It beats pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten

Wait on the sons of no one, bastards of young
Wait on the sons of no one, bastards of young
The daughters and the sons

Clean your baby womb, trash that baby boom
Elvis in the ground, no way he'll be here tonight
Income tax deduction, one hell of a function
It beats pickin' cotton and waitin' to be forgotten

Wait on the sons of no one, bastards of young
Wait on the sons of no one, bastards of young
Now the daughters and the sons

Unwillingness to claim us, ya got no war to name us

The ones who love us best are the ones we'll lay to rest
And visit their graves on holidays at best
The ones who love us least are the ones we'll die to please
If it's any consolation, I don't begin to understand them

Written by:
Paul Westerberg

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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