Red Envelopes

There is monster incubating Inside a teenage mom That's a world outside, that's waiting For him with the atom bomb There is a body on the billboard That he's never gonna get If it was lying in his bed He wouldn't know what to do with it There's a Stack of Red Envelopes There's a list of demands The blood is on your hands The blood is on your hands The blood is on your hands He'll use his skateboard for a weapon He's gonna have a short fuse He will grow up with holes in his jeans And dirty white in the shoes He's gonna love the smell of spray paint He will be growing out his hair He's gonna give the world the finger To show that he don't care No one ever listens No one understands The blood is on your hands The blood is on your hands The blood is on your hands There is bars on the windows There is a matress on the floor There is an endless argument On the other side of the door He's gonna put on his headphones To drown out the noise 'Cause Rock and roll is the only escape For forgotten teenage boys There is stack of Red Envelopes There is a list of demands The blood is on your hands The blood is on your hands The blood is on your hands Aaah Uuuuh Hey!