Curly Locks

They showed no interest in us 
They painted our faces with mute 
They neglected building trust 
There's no money in fucked up youth 

AND WHEN WE GO OUT 
WE WEAVE DISASTER INTO OUR CURLY LOCKS 
WE SPLINT BROKEN WRIST WITH HELL 
THEY'RE SO WRONG ABOUT US 

At the dark end of the street 
Under a dark cloud we meet 
I'm too excited to stand in the back 
We're gonna slam gonna bang gonna dive off stacks 
We're all dirt poor, we yell and cuss 
But you're DEAD DEAD DEAD wrong about us.