 Me and my friends are like the drums on "Lust for Life.” We pound it out on floor toms. Our songs are sing-along songs.
An’ this whole town is like this. We might wait our whole lives, just…work at the mill until you die. Work at the mill, and then you die. We’re gonna build something this summer. We’re gonna build something, this summer. We’ll put it back together—raise up a giant ladder with love and trust and friends and hammers. (This summer!) We’re gonna lean this ladder up against the water tower, climb up to the top and drink and talk. (This summer!)
Me and my friends are like ”Doublewhiskeycokenoice.” We drink along in double time; might drink too much, but we feel fine. We’re gonna build something, this summer. Gonna build something, this summer.
Grant us all the power to drink on top of water towers with love and trust and shows, all summer. (Get hammered!) Let this be my annual reminder that we can all be something bigger.
I went to your schools; I did my detention, but the walls are so gray, I couldn’t pay attention. I heard your gospel; it moved me to tears, but I couldn’t find the hate and I couldn’t find the fear. I met your savior. I knelt at his feet, and he took my ten bucks and went down the street. I tried to believe all the things that you said, but my friends that aren’t dying are already dead.
Raise a toast to St. Joe Strummer. I think he might’ve been our only decent teacher. Getting older makes it harder to remember…we are our only saviors. We’re gonna build something, this summer.
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