The Bronx

Curb Feelers

Every day starts off the same
I wake up looking for my brain
It's not at the beach, it's not in my bed
The panic sets in that I might be dead

Someone call 911

Mirror mirror on the wall
Will I pass out in the bathroom stall?
I write the songs that no one sings
You got no idea of the pressure that brings

Someone call LA Times

Rebel becomes routine
And now you're dying like the punk scene

So who's the lucky one tonight
Don't know what I want, but I know what I like

Someone call Elvira

Rebel becomes routine
And now you're dying like the punk scene

1, 2, 3, 4

Someone call 911

Rebel becomes routine
And now you're dying like the punk scene
And now you're dying like the punk scene