City like a steam table,
Hot trash on the ground.
Cold fish and hot grease,
Eight dollars a pound.
You sweat and you strain
Just to make your own way.
And we ain't done nothing,
Since we woke up today.
We live on an island
Where work doesn't pay.
We got shitty guitars, cheap beer, and cocaine.
We are not gentlemen,
But we're good to have around.
If we're too drunk to get it up
We will always go down.
Well you know what they say
About all work and no pay.
On the Island of Misfit Boys
We got to get made.
We don't get the girls from the shampoo commercials,
They're too fancy, free, and aloof.
We get by on barflies and underage Jersey girls
Hotter and sketchier than Chinese food
Chow-fun.
When you're drunk and it's late
Everybody looks great
On the Island of Misfit Boys,
We gotta get made.
We keep our mothers worried
About the whiskey just because,
If she's thinking about the drinking
She won't ask about the drugs.
Oh that guy's your boyfriend?
We don't care.
Not afraid to take a punch,
But, hey put down that chair.
The next time my nose breaks,
Maybe they'll set it straight
On the Island of Misfit Boys
We got to get made.
On the Island of Misfit Boys
We got to get made.
On the Island of Misfit Boys
We got to get made.