Hand Me The Downs - U.S. Bombs

Too much pressure, gonna self explode

The baggage keeps on pilin' up

My future dangles from the end of a rope

No coat tails to sew on my coat

This is just a fame, it’s just a game

Good God above take me out now, now

Somebody help me now, now, now

Lift me up to hand me the downs

The night life here’s the worst it’s ever been

Where’s my jar of glue to put away my brains

This old body’s been through the mill

My first memory was hate, so take the blame