Evil S I yes to find a shore,

A beach that doesn't quiver anymore,

And we could crush some plants to paint my walls,

And I won't try to fight in the weekend wars

Was I? I was to lazy to bathe

Or paint or write or try to make a change

Now I can shoot a gun to kill my lunch

And I don't have to love or think too much

Instant battle plans written on the sidewalk

Mental mystics in a twisted metal car

Tried to amplify the sound of light and love

Christ is cursed of fathers and mothers

Might even take a knife to split a hair

Or even scare the children off my lawn

Giving us time to make the makeshift bombs

Every mess invested was a score

We couldn't use computers anymore

But It's difficult to win unless you're bored,

And you might have to plan for the weekend wars