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Lyrics:
All we want is a head-rush
All we want is to get out of our skin for a while
We have nothing to lose, because we don't have anything
Anything we want anyway
We used to hate people
Now, we just make fun of them
It's more effective that way
We don't live
We just scratch on, day to day
With nothing but matchbooks and sarcasm in our pockets
And all we’re waiting for is for something worth waiting for
Let's admit America gets the celebrities we deserve
Let's stop saying, 'Don't quote me,' because if no one quotes you
You probably haven't said a thing worth saying
Sex, drugs, God, cash
Sex, drugs, God
America
We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside
Sex, drugs, God, cash
Sex, drugs, God
America
We all just want to die a little bit
We fear that pop culture is the only kinda culture we're ever going to have
We want to stop reading magazines
Stop watching TV
Stop caring about Hollywood
But we're addicted to the things we hate
We don't run Washington, and no one really does
Ask not what you can do for your country
Ask what your country did to you
Sex, drugs, God, cash
Sex, drugs, God
America
The only reason you're still alive is because someone has decided to let you live
Sex, drugs, God, cash
Sex, drugs, God
America
We owe so much money, we're not broke — we're broken
We're so poor, we can't even pay attention
So what do you want?
You want to be famous, and rich, and happy?
But you're terrified you have nothing to offer this world
Nothing to say and no way to say it
But you can say it in a few languages
You are more than the sum of what you consume
Desire is not an occupation
You are ultimately thrilled and desperate
Sky high and fucked!
Let's stop praying for someone to save us and start saving ourselves
Let's stop this and start over
Let's go out
Let's keep going
Sex, drugs, God, cash
Sex, drugs, God
America
This is your life — this is your fucking life!
(America)
Sex, drugs, God, cash
Sex, drugs, God
America
We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside
(America)
(America)
Quit whining, you haven't done anything wrong
Because frankly, you haven't done much of anything
Sex, drugs, God, cash
Sex, drugs, God
America
Someone's been writing down your mistakes
Someone's documenting your downfall