On the playground you learned how to share with the kids But you still didn't feel you fit in How fitting, in confusion when you turned sixteen You knew how to paint by numbers But you knew it wasn't rock and roll You learned tight pants, spray-paint and eyeliner You said glam-rock would save your soul But you didn't grasp that the rebellion you wanted wasn't something you can ever be sold
And I never understood how someone could be so willing to be absorbed Into what I never though could be passed for identity And I always felt bad for the kids who had to share their faces With sad teenagers across the world Found something to fill their loss, without ever adjusting the cause
I heard a speech pattern imitated exactly by a girl in Seattle and a gang in Minneapolis So I guess he must of learned that from T.V.
You said you'd find yourself for real but feel far out from the goal You had to paint by numbers but knew it wasn't ro-ro-ro-ro rock and roll!
