If I am to be free
There's a joy in me
Allen and Cassady
Just like you and me

Holy infant, holy men
Holy urge to start again
Holy angels on the street
Going crazy, crazy

I wanna hunt for true
I wanna yell in pain and joy like you
I want a thing to need
I wanna rip it out and feel it leave

Ugliness and filth in me
What is beauty?
Throw your salad on the screen
This bright lobotomy

What would he have thought of pain?
And of indirects online?
Why is jazz just for the rich?
Have we lost your mind?

I wanna hunt for true
I wanna yell in pain and joy like you
I want a thing to need
I wanna rip it out and let it bleed

We wear teardrops of cement
Overshare our gratitude
Dream of feeling something
Then call it all a mood

The machinery of night
But there's no dark and there's no light
Everything will blend to one
If there's no boredom, there's no fun

I wanna hunt for true
I wanna yell in pain and joy like you
I want a thing to need
I wanna rip it out and feel it leave

If I am to be free
There's a joy in me
I'd run naked on the street
She would hate me