Walk, make sure your head is down
Shoot, line up the crosshairs on the things that backed up all your craziness
Wear your scars out on your sleeve, because you're at that age
You're still from the suburbs, and that's okay

Scream the saddest song you know
Cry as if the world is ending
Try convincing me that's what you want
Wear my scars out on my sleeve, because I'm at that age
We're all from the suburbs, and that's okay, okay, okay

I'm sure you had it bad, everybody wants to say that
But I'm just not that impressed with socially accepted anger
So don't raise another flag simply for the sake of fashion, because right now, we're just wasting up the air