Carefree kids on bikes, zigzagging their way to Gross Burgers Their mothers are hookers, methheads, and nurses Their dads are nowhere to be found.
But they still laugh, pass around a Coca-Cola Turn up the Kanye and anger the neighbors Who wear beards and drive trucks with one hand on the wheel
Carefree kids on bikes, eating push-up pops from Mike’s liquor store They all smell like green sour patch kids - sour, sweet - almost gone. Until they smell her lilacs beckoning them home, singing their names from a purple stem
She’s our lifeline, pumping blood through us and into our hearts Carefree kids on bikes, we’ve only got that old lady on the porch Carefree kids on bikes, who all the moms get rid of, Ride to the lilacs, where she quietly gives up her last Coke for one of them
And loves them all, Without caring where they come from.