Hipster Song

All the children unaware of their raising
To look back in retrospect and then cry
All the old men in old houses with their chest pains
Wondering where the hell to go when they die

All the tweakers tumbling, stumbling through the day glow
Raving, misbehaving in our nights
Banging, rearranging their heads at our rock n' roll shows
Find some dust, tap the vein and ignite

Oh it's dawning on me mother
It's rising from the east
We sow and sow and sow, what do we reap
Oh mother
Oh mother, yeah

All the hipsters dream in stoic coffee houses
Smoking spirits, waking, dying in their vans
Bourgoise mamas and papas pay for penthouses
And we piss and moan about the man

All the girls pining right where we left them
In apartments filled with books and New Vouge
Drive away in the cars that we lived in
Light a smoke, turn on Sabbath, head down the road

It's dawning on me mother
It's rising from the east
We sow and sow and sow, what do we reap, yeah