The endless line of Subarus
Stalled in our fathers' avenues
Throngs of bongs, a bag of shrooms

I'm sleeping when I look at you

Beneath your tattooed, sweaty stew

In faded ink of Prussian blue
The skin pulled tight on wooden drums
Granola kids are just having fun


But I'm not having fun
I'm not having fun no more


Neon girls who don't react
Sign electronic suicide pacts

Drive-thru nights in greasy hues
I'm lonely when I'm next to you


Those boys are $#&@ing terrible
Marxist Americans, a parable
I burned my outdoor-rec degree

My mother's dating divorcees

And I'm not having fun

I'm not having fun no more

What's my Muslim name today?

I invent religious holidays
We resurrected Kurt Cobain
housebreaking all his dusty cliches


And I'm not having fun
I'm not having fun no more