I've tried dolls that were guaranteed sixteen
Or under none were very exciting
Sorta like a laugh track or whacking off they'll get you off
But it's just not the real thing

But It's been decades since my pit days
But I havent shaken it, I sit there like an idiot
Still caught up in the old punk protocol
And dreaming that the teenagers will think that I'm a radical

And I still wait for the bus to come
Where high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love
Among the skateboarders hanging out
In back of the bank in my hometown

All this talk and no action's got me stiff from the tit to the bone
So I'm living in lala land
But at least I'm not living at home
Same old catcall same old chemicals
Same old thrills
Stealing stockings from the shopping mall
It's simple enough to grow the fuck up happy with the rough cut
Nobody's in the market for a diamond in the rough

But I still wait for my mom to come
And pick me up at Holly's house
Ten years after they cashed it in
To make a multi-level parking lot for a seven-eleven and Burger King

I've got cryptographs I've got all the phones tapped
I've got proof enough it is indisputable
Love's not good enough I want pies and graphs
Something that will teach me my arithmetic at last

Better get your kids in
I'm on the loose again
And getting more ridiculous the more I think I ought to get my mind out of the gutter
It's getting dangerous, Amanda, God
You're old enough to be his fucking
My own private highway from the cradle to the grave
I save a bundle skipping middle age and saturdays

And I still wait for the cops to come
Where the station since burned down
Still expecting that they'll pick me up
For all the sins I committed
In the back of the banged-up pickup truck

I've got autographs, backstage passes
And leather jacket back patches up the
Ask me anything I want evidence
Single serving saccharine packets dripping black with lipstick kisses

I still wait for the bus to come back where the high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love among the sakteboarders hanging out
In back of the bank in my home

I'm no pederast it was nice to ask
Thank you but I'm capable
Of getting up and getting dressed
Love's not good enough I want photographs
Something that will teach me come inside
Time and time again
I think I'll head downtown again
Oh God
I'm sixteen
No, I'm ten
I'm seventeen
And a bank of Boston beauty queen

But I'm...