127 and Her Wharf

Dammit
He said
She said
Dammit
Damn
Or
The Song of My Generation
Got scrapped knees
Tight jeans
Dark glasses
Dammit
Spare them some time
He said
She had it bad
Cough in the fall
Autumn, she calls it
Prettier
Makes me think of leaves by
the lake
Of course
If it makes her happy
Song of My Generation
Got some posters of
philosophers
Now hear her speak