I'm feeling rough, I'm feeling raw, I'm in the prime of my life

Let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives

I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin, and fuck with the stars

You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars

This is our decision, to live fast and die young

We've got the vision, now let's have some fun

Yeah, it's overwhelming

But what else can we do?

Get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commute

Forget about our mothers and our friends

We're fated to pretend

To pretend

We're fated to pretend

To pretend

I'll miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms

I'll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world

I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home

Yeah, I'll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone

But there's really nothing

Nothing we can do

Love must be forgotten

Life can always start up anew

The models will have children

We'll get a divorce

We'll find some more models

Everything must run it's course

We'll choke on our vomit

And that will be the end

We were fated to pretend

To pretend

We're fated to pretend

To pretend

I said a yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah