Lyrics Bastards of Young - The Replacements
God,
what
a
mess,
on
the
ladder
of
success
Where
you
take
one
step
and
miss
the
whole
first
rung
Dreams
unfulfilled,
graduate
unskilled
It
beats
pickin′
cotton
and
waitin'
to
be
forgotten
We
are
the
sons
of
no
one,
bastards
of
young
We
are
the
sons
of
no
one,
bastards
of
young
The
daughters
and
the
sons
Clean
your
baby
womb,
trash
that
baby
boom
Elvis
in
the
ground,
no
waitin′
on
beer
tonight
Income
tax
deduction,
what
a
hell
of
a
function
It
beats
pickin'
cotton
and
waitin'
to
be
forgotten
We
are
the
sons
of
no
one,
bastards
of
young
We
are
the
sons
of
no
one,
bastards
of
young
Not
the
daughters
and
the
sons
Unwillingness
to
claim
us,
ya
got
no
war
to
name
us
The
ones
who
love
us
best
are
the
ones
we′ll
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
them
We
are
the
sons
of
no
one,
bastards
of
young
We
are
the
sons
of
no
one,
bastards
of
young
Daughters
and
the
sons
Young
Young
Young
Young
Young
Take
it,
it's
yours
Take
it,
it′s
yours
Take
it,
it's
yours
Take
it,
it′s
yours
Take
it,
it's
yours
Take
it,
it's
yours
Take
it,
it′s
yours
Take
it,
it′s
yours
Take
it,
it's
yours
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