After a genuine act of defiance You're 29 and you lost your license That's fine, you need to ride your bike more About a month and then you're joining the peace corps
And I'm okay with this downhill strategy No brakes, but then again you don't need any I know you're singing the fixed-gear blues But look me up when you're walking in worn down shoes
I see what you're doing right there But you're dreaming if you think that I care They pick on you because you're so small Stand on your money and you're 20 feet tall
The grass is always greener somewhere And the pavement's always cleaner somewhere But I'm breathing easy under blue skies I've got a smile on me 20 feet wide So I won't lend you my ear
