Middle Children

I watched the young girl on the tube
Just fixing up her make-up
And I'm runbbing on my baggy eyes
Just trying har to wake up
She must not have had a mirror
'casue on her phone she takes a picture of herself
Just to see if her make-up's straight

I watched the young boy on the street
There in a pack all hoarding
His body language speaking volumes of his endless yearning
And I know it's driving him crazy
How much he wants that Mercedes
As they all look on in fear
'cause they don't know what he will do next

And I know that this is how it is
But I can't reconcile myself with how i live
And they say that it's not where you're from
But where you're at
So, why do I wanna go
Why do I wanna go back

Advertising has us chasing bars and clothes
Working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need
We're the middle children of history, man
No purpose nor place
We have no grat war, no great depression
Our great depression, is our lives

And I know that this is how it is
But i can't reconcile myself with how i live
And they say that it's not where you're from
But where you're at
So, why do I wanna go
Why do I wanna go back
(back, bck,back,back...)