Look at that useless boy atop of that county hill
Walking, skating, and biking into town was his childhood thrill
A clown, a king, an outcast but comfortable locked in his little room
He sees music as colors
This is synesthesia and insanity grew
Everyone...
His bright future was lookin' at the sun
Socially awkward
Music taught him communication
From the age of 12 his old man gave him a Ramones CD
How many years later?
Hes's got some Strange Dreams
Hes's got some Strange Dreams
Strange Dreams
Strange Dreams
(Just play four chords...It's not like it's hard or anything...)
Miss that nostalgic sound
To lift him up when he's down
He's got some Strange Dreams
No one can tell him... what to do