(S)KiDS
I'm a skid, a skid, a punk rock kid
My old man, you know what he did?
Punched me right in the heart
And now my world has fallen apart
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
How do I start? Scotty's the name (my name!)
Being free, man, that's the game
Suck in a car parents' great plains
God, he don't know my name
Might as well have been handcuffed in the trunk
Leaving real ones behind, who showed me punk (punk!)
Phony marshall family, city of champions bound
Been a minute since any champions been crowned
Pops is gonna pop, a heart attack and drop
A stereotypical control freak cop
My old man mick, made his mark as a narc
Living with him, dirty thirty shade of dark
Soon as mom's awake, a shot so she don't shake
How does she take it? A lesser women would break
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
(1, 2, 3)
I'm a skid, a skid, a punk rock kid
Got my headphones on, and I blast the shit
I'm a skid, a skid, a punk rock kid
The discman plays, and man I write to live
(S)KiDS
Soy un skid, un skid, un chico punk rock
Mi viejo, ¿sabes lo que hizo?
Me dio un puñetazo directo al corazón
Y ahora mi mundo se ha desmoronado
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
¿Cómo empiezo? Scotty es el nombre (¡mi nombre!)
Ser libre, amigo, ese es el juego
Atascado en un auto, las grandes llanuras de mis padres
Dios, él no sabe mi nombre
Podría haber estado esposado en el maletero
Dejando atrás a los reales, quienes me mostraron el punk (¡punk!)
Falsa familia marshall, ciudad de campeones atada
Ha pasado un tiempo desde que se coronó a algún campeón
Papá va a estallar, un infarto y caer
Un estereotípico policía controlador
Mi viejo Mick, dejó su huella como un narco
Viviendo con él, sucio, treinta sombras de oscuridad
Tan pronto como mamá despierte, un trago para que no tiemble
¿Cómo lo soporta? Una mujer menos fuerte se rompería
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya
(1, 2, 3)
Soy un skid, un skid, un chico punk rock
Tengo mis audífonos puestos, y subo el volumen
Soy un skid, un skid, un chico punk rock
El discman suena, y hombre, escribo para vivir
Escrita por: Rare Americans