Trendy winds are blowing through my hair
the punk-elite are checking everything I wear
I'm tired of their endless whine, why can't they mind their own
cause what I am is what I will be

Don't need you or your crew
to tell me what to do
everyday when you try to waste my time
I waste a rhyme

sometimes I can't understand what's wrong
to all you suckers we dedicate this song

Millencolin é foda. Final de semana da beleza. Showzinho no domingo, churras de aniversário no sábado. Bêbaço sem noção!!!

Je suis vraiment fatigué e je veux dire "TAIS-TOI" a tout le monde. Je suis fâcher de ces gens là que me disent quoi faire.