Now isn't that just such a rousing little ditty?
I'd say that all the work I've given really paid off for all of these
For a song can always come in many shades and many colors maybe
I've made a good case for mine

All of my friends will say they know just what the problem is
The problem is that no one knows just what's to come this winter
None of my friends know what to do or what to say
So let's have a party, and put a chink in his armor

All of this comes from a distinct and violent want
I just feel disillusioned with the way that things have gone
All kids my age, they feel this way, but maybe I can make it work
Make some use, while the injustice is still hot

All of my friends, they have grand visions of the future
The problem is that there's still canyon's worth of work this winter
None of my friends know what to do or what it'll take
So let's have a party, and put a chink in his armor

Breathe, this will all be over soon
The album's almost done, almost through
Maybe I sound just a little frightened or depressed
But don't forget, don't forget, I can write soft silly music too

Breathe, I'll step out of the room
Soon you won't hear me singing all out of tune
Maybe I ran in circles for just a little too long
But don't forget, don't forget, I can write soft silly music too
Breathe, the night will grow less blue
I'll flee away on a packet of golden balloons
Maybe all I've done is indulge in a feeling that I can't explain
But don't forget, don't forget, I can write soft silly music too

*Record Scratch*