Fifteen songs, fifteen shows, Fifteen pigs sucking at your tit How does it feel to live here How does it feel to leave here Fifteen notes, fifteen notes, Fifteen dogs chewin' on your throat How does it feel to come home I wish you had a home And you've got nothing I want But got something I need You got the elegance, ability to breed Traffic report, fifteen dead, Head on collision at least that's what I thought I'd read We're the kids in America We're the kids in America Fifteen days, You're back on track Fifteen ounces cut out of your fucking back How does it feel to be you I do not envy you dude You've got nothing I like but got something I love You've got the charm and skills to rise above You know how to be loved And you're as clean as a broke dick I don't want to be like you, but I'm still rooting for you I would hate to be like you, but I'm still rooting for you I would hate to be like you, but I'm still rooting for you I don't want to be like you, but I'm still rooting for you You've got nothing I hate But got something I loathe You still walk around letting other people pick out your clothes And they will tell you when to go And they'll tell you who to know And they will tell you when to stop And then you'll stop