"God what a mess On the ladder of success Where u take one step And miss the whole first run Dreams. Unfulfilled Graduate unskilled It beats picking cotton And waiting to be forgotten [Chorus] We are the sons of no one Bastards of young We are the sons of no one Bastards of young The daughters and their sons Clean your baby womb Trash that baby boom With Elvis in the ground Where out here tonight Income tax deduction What a hell of a function It beats picking cotton And waiting to be forgotten [Chorus] We are the sons of no one Bastards of young We are the sons of no one Bastards of young The daughters and their sons Unwillingness to claim us They’ve got no war to save us The ones who love us best Are the ones we lay to rest And visit their graves On holidays at best The ones who love us least Are the ones we’ll die to please If it’s any consolation I don’t begin to understand [Chorus] We are the sons of no one Bastards of young We are the sons of no one Bastards of young The daughters and their sons"