Generation Y? by Thea Gilmore Lyrics
Four o'clock in the morning and my coffee got cold
And I've been watching the streetlamps flick off with the dawn
So I take a deep breath inwards and my hair's pulled down my throat
I look up at the sky, ask "do you mind if I smoke?"
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Talkin' 'bout degeneration
And what about democracy and what about equality?
We're all asking the age old question, so what about me?
And we turn to face the cameras pointing knives towards each others backs
Saying "I'm a product of my generation." You could make a film about that
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Talkin' 'bout degeneration
And the bigwigs down on fleet street are cashing in on this parade
Selling hot dogs by disaster zones, counting every dollar made
And we pay out for the gossip and the latest on our own demise
Like the print's supposed to be our ears, like the screen's supposed to be our eyes
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
You said that it meant nothing
You said that you just met her
Well as far as your excuses go baby
You could do better
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Talkin' bout degeneration
Said I'm talkin' bout degeneration
Said I'm talkin' bout degeneration
And I've been watching the streetlamps flick off with the dawn
So I take a deep breath inwards and my hair's pulled down my throat
I look up at the sky, ask "do you mind if I smoke?"
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Talkin' 'bout degeneration
And what about democracy and what about equality?
We're all asking the age old question, so what about me?
And we turn to face the cameras pointing knives towards each others backs
Saying "I'm a product of my generation." You could make a film about that
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Talkin' 'bout degeneration
And the bigwigs down on fleet street are cashing in on this parade
Selling hot dogs by disaster zones, counting every dollar made
And we pay out for the gossip and the latest on our own demise
Like the print's supposed to be our ears, like the screen's supposed to be our eyes
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
You said that it meant nothing
You said that you just met her
Well as far as your excuses go baby
You could do better
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Oh, oh, la da da da da da da
La da, la da, la da da da da da da
Talkin' bout degeneration
Said I'm talkin' bout degeneration
Said I'm talkin' bout degeneration