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.