Song parody of
Baby Teeth
by Sunny Side Down
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There are baseballs in the boot of my car
They are preventing me from taking your dead body to the park
I hope in twenty years I'll be able to play barre chords
I hope I'm not a failure
I hope my friends are proud of me
And the things that I've done
I hope that you can see them too
I'll rub makeup in my eyes
I'll bash bruises on my knees
I hope that old men on the bus look up and stare at me
Oh my god what has this generation come to
We've come to kissing our reflections
Telling ourselves we're loved
We've come to dressing up our wounds in blood and baby teeth
We've come to falling down in carparks
Hoping that we're liked
We've come to dressing up and setting things on fire with our
love for each other
There's a ball pit in the back of my yard
It is preventing me from keeping my head down in class
Now I know what I know that I know
I hope in twenty years I'll be eighteen
Still young enough to wipe my hands clean
I hope I'm not a failure
I hope my dog is proud of me
I'll rub makeup in my eyes
I'll bash bruises on my knees
I hope that old men on the bus look up and stare at me
Oh my god what has this generation come to
We've come to kissing our reflections
Telling ourselves we're loved
We've come to dressing up our wounds in blood and baby teeth
We've come to falling down in carparks
Hoping that we're liked
We've come to dressing up and setting things on fire with our
love for each other
There are baseballs in the boot of my car
They are preventing me from taking your dead body to the park
I hope in twenty years I'll be able to play barre chords
I hope I'm not a failure
I hope my friends are proud of me
And the things that I've done
I hope that you can see them too
I'll rub makeup in my eyes
I'll bash bruises on my knees
I hope that old men on the bus look up and stare at me
Oh my god what has this generation come to
We've come to kissing our reflections
Telling ourselves we're loved
We've come to dressing up our wounds in blood and baby teeth
We've come to falling down in carparks
Hoping that we're liked
We've come to dressing up and setting things on fire with our
love for each other
There's a ball pit in the back of my yard
It is preventing me from keeping my head down in class
Now I know what I know that I know
I hope in twenty years I'll be eighteen
Still young enough to wipe my hands clean
I hope I'm not a failure
I hope my dog is proud of me
I'll rub makeup in my eyes
I'll bash bruises on my knees
I hope that old men on the bus look up and stare at me
Oh my god what has this generation come to
We've come to kissing our reflections
Telling ourselves we're loved
We've come to dressing up our wounds in blood and baby teeth
We've come to falling down in carparks
Hoping that we're liked
We've come to dressing up and setting things on fire with our
love for each other
