Hold your own... jacket, please
I'm not in the mood
Millions of trains... under the ground
This city was the blueprint for Hell

Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of... leaving in the morning
You will all die in
Williamsburg

Too hip... to even clean your nose out
Your grave is... pulling at your pants now
You will all die in
Williamsburg

Bored again... watching the rats... eat all your food
At least you'll be used to
The place you'll be soon
This city was the blueprint for Hell

Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of...leaving in the morning
You will all die in
Williamsburg

Too hip... to even clean your nose out
Your grave is... pulling at your pants now
You will all die in
Williamsburg

Do you know how
Obvious you are?
You were born in New Hampshire
But you say you're from the O.C.

Brooklyn's a death bed
For clones of the same kid
You're stuck in the party
That was lame to begin with

Yeah...
Lame to begin with

At least you'll be used to the place you'll be
The city was the blueprint for Hell
(You will all die in
Williamsburg)

Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of...leaving in the morning
You will all die in
Williamsburg

Too hip...to even clean your nose out
Your grave is...pulling at your pants now
You will all die in
Williamsburg...

Yeah, yeah...
Yeah, yeah, yeah...
You will all die...

See also:
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