Out of my garden, passed the battle cruiser, 
                         
We jumped over cemetery gates, 
 
There on the wasteland, we saw the horizon, 
                         
I noticed your pupils dilate. 
PRE-
CHORUS:       
Came from the booze and the s generation, 
And prayed for the mayhem to start, 
You said you were foolish but I saw the genius, 
In pulling the stitches apart. 
                                       
So raise your glass to the ones who have passed, 
                       
And the ones that got away, ohh.