I ran with daggers, in the Brunswick sun
Considered weightless, concerned by some
To be left alone here, like it passed me by
Grew old before my music died
I wanted some. You want it all
With hole in hands, come back to me
You left with my youth and the finer things
Stay young, stay loud. Stay brash and bold
If I could spread myself through wide-open spaces
Convince myself my time had never been a wasted
Find myself asleep in dirty, dirty basements
With a sense of charm, It would be okay
With hole in hands, come back to me
You left with my youth and the finer things
Stay young, stay loud. Stay brash and bold
Not looking back, on what couldn’t be
You left with my youth and abandoned me
Stay young, stay loud. Stay brash and bold
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