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Long live the reckless and the brave, I don’t think I want to be saved.

My song has not been sung. So long live us.

Looking out at a town called Suburbia. Everybody’s just fighting to fit in.

Little rats, running mazes, having babies. It’s a vicious little world that we live in.

Looking back at a life on the other side, I realise that I didn’t fit in.

Didn’t hate it, but I didn’t quite relate it to my precious little world.

So long live the reckless and the brave, I don’t think I want to be saved.

My song has not been sung.

And long live the fast times, so come what may. I don’t think I’ll ever be saved.

Our song has not been sung. Long live us.

Breaking out of a town called suburbia.

I remember everybody always saying ‘Little brat must be crazy.

Never make it in our vicious little world.’

Still I’m leaving.

Got a van, got a chance, got my dignity.

Got a dream, got a spark, got to let it be.

Take a breath, say goodbye to their precious little world.

(Shame on me)

So long live the reckless and the brave, I don’t think I want to be saved.

My song has not been sung.

And long live the fast times, so come what may, I don’t think I’ll ever be saved.

Our song has not been sung. So long live us.

Long live us.

Long live the reckless and the brave, I don’t think I want to be saved.

My song has not been sung.

Long live the reckless and the brave, I don’t think I want to be saved.

My song has not been sung.

And long live the fast times, so come what may. I don’t think that I’ll ever be saved.

I know our song has not been sung. Long live us.

Long live us.