Those Kids

Those Kids

Actually,
To tell the truth I kind of like being one of those kids.
Those kids who drive 110 in a 35mph zone,
Windows rolled down and must screaming
In theirs and everyone else's ears.
Living on the edge but never touching a joint or beer.
Kicking, screaming,
Don't go down without a fight.
Lunch money goes towards gas,
Pays for speeding through the night.
Those stupid garage band kids that no one likes,
But everyone loves.
Recording music on cell phones
And battling for MySpace popularity.
Never bad kids,
Just bad attitudes.
The kind of kids your parents warned you about,
When they have no idea the real problems
Are the quiet ones,
The polite ones,
The ones they wish you associated with.
Those kids never fear,
Never care,
Occasionally tear.
Yes they feel,
Their pain is real.
The only difference between them and you
Is a smile,
A laugh,
A chord on a guitar
That lets you know who they are.
Never gave a damn about a failure,
It'll all be okay in the end.
Right?
It's chill,
It'll pass.
It's chill,
It'll pass...
...
...
...
Yeah.
Actually,
To tell the truth I kind of like being one of those kids.